Long pains, with use of bearing, are half eased.

One of the greatest, most noble, and most sublime poems which either this age or nation has produced.

Honor is but an empty bubble.

A good conscience is a port which is landlocked on every side, where no winds can possibly invade. There a man may not only see his own image, but that of his Maker, clearly reflected from the undisturbed waters.

It's a hard world, neighbors, if a man's oath must be his master.

That gloomy outside, like a rusty chest, contains the shoring treasure of a soul resolved and brave.

The thought of being nothing after death is a burden insupportable to a virtuous man.