Few know the use of life before 'tis past.
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.
Set all things in their own peculiar place, and know that order is the greatest grace.
For your ignorance is the mother of your devotion to me.
Secret guilt is by silence revealed.
Shakespeare was naturally learned; he needed not the spectacles of the books to read nature; he looked inward, and found her there.