Heaven open'd wide Her ever during gates, harmonious sound, On golden hinges moving.
Let her (Truth) and Falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth put to the worse in a free and open encounter?
Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end.
Fame is the last infirmity of the human mind.
Virtue that wavers is not virtue, but vice revolted from itself, and after a while returning. The actions of just and pious men do not darken in their middle course.
Who shall silence all the airs and madrigals that whisper softness in chambers?