Care-charming Sleep, thou easer of all woes, brother to Death, sweetly thyself dispose.

The coward's weapon, poison.

Drink today, and drown all sorrow; you shall perhaps not do tomorrow.

Ask how to live? Write, write, write, anything; The world's a fine believing world, write news.

That soul that can Be honest is the only perfect man.

Death hath so many doors to let out life.

'Tis virtue, and not birth that makes us noble: Great actions speak great minds, and such should govern.