Fame is the last infirmity of the human mind.

Wisdom's self oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, where with her best nurse Contemplation, she plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings that in the various bustle of resort were all to-ruffled, and sometimes impaired.

Sable-vested Night, eldest of things.

A grateful mind/ By owing owes not, but still pays, at once/ Indebted and discharg'd.

That practis'd falsehood under saintly shew, Deep malice to conceal, couch'd with revenge.

Education of youth is not a bow for every man to shoot in that counts himself a teacher; but will require sinews almost equal to those which Homer gave to Ulysses.

Virtue could see to do what Virtue would by her own radiant light, though sun and moon where in the flat sea sunk.