Nay, what is worse, perhaps turn poet, which, they say, is an infectious and incurable distemper.

At this the duchess, laughing all the while, said: "Sancho Panza is right in all he has said, and will be right in all he shall say.

We ought to love our Maker for His own sake, without either hope of good or fear of pain.

The absent feel and fear every ill.

Every man was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

Modesty, tis a virtue not often found among poets, for almost every one of them thinks himself the greatest in the world.

It is one thing to praise discipline, and another to submit to it.