To breed up the son to common sense is evermore the parent's least expense.
Genius must be born, it can't be taught.
When he spoke, what tender words he used! So softly, that like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they fell.
It's a hard world, neighbors, if a man's oath must be his master.
The World to Bacon does not only owe it's present knowledge, but its future too.
The thought of being nothing after death is a burden insupportable to a virtuous man.