Morn, Wak'd by the circling hours, with rosy hand Unbarr'd the gates of light.

The mind is its own place, and in itself, can make heaven of Hell, and a hell of Heaven.

Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Come and trip it as ye go, On the light fantastic toe.

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

How oft, in nations gone corrupt, And by their own devices brought down to servitude, That man chooses bondage before liberty. Bondage with ease before strenuous liberty.

A good principle not rightly understood may prove as hurtful as a bad.

Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end.