Pleas'd me, long choosing and beginning late.

By labor and intent study (which I take to be my portion in this life), joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written to after-times, as they should not willingly let it die.

Boast not of what thou would'st have done, but do.

What better can we do than prostrate fall before Him reverent, and there confess humbly our faults, and pardon beg with tears watering the ground?

Sweet intercourse of looks and smiles; for smiles from reason flow.

Neither prosperity nor empire nor heaven can be worth winning at the price of a virulent temper, bloody hands, an anguished spirit, and a vain hatred of the rest of the world.

Into this wild abyss, The womb of Nature and perhaps her grave.