I dare not so honor my mere wishes and prayers as to put them for a moment beside your noble acts; but this know, I would rather submit to the worst of deaths, so far as pain goes, than have a single dog or cat tortured on the pretence of sparing me a twinge or two.

It's wiser being good than bad; It's safer being meek than fierce: It's fitter being sane than mad.

Still more labyrinthine buds the rose.

Measure your mind's height by the shade it casts.

Strike when thou wilt, the hour of rest, but let my last days be my best.

Though Rome's gross yoke Drops off, no more to be endured, Her teaching is not so obscured By errors and perversities, That no truth shines athwart the lies.

'Tis an awkward thing to play with souls.