He trudged along unknowing what he sought, And whistled as he went, for want of thought.

Death in itself is nothing; but we fear to be we know not what, we know not where.

But wild Ambition loves to slide, not stand, And Fortune's ice prefers to Virtue's land.

Genius must be born, it can't be taught.

These are the effects of doting age,--vain doubts and idle cares and over caution.

Zeal, the blind conductor of the will.

For they can conquer who believe they can.