He with a graceful pride, While his rider every hand survey'd, Sprung loose, and flew into an escapade; Not moving forward, yet with every bound Pressing, and seeming still to quit his ground.

Not to ask is not be denied.

Seas are the fields of combat for the winds; but when they sweep along some flowery coast, their wings move mildly, and their rage is lost.

Virtue is her own reward.

Treason is greatest where trust is greatest.

Self-defense is Nature's eldest law.

Such subtle Covenants shall be made,Till Peace it self is War in Masquerade.