If my resolution to be a great man was half so strong as it is to despise the shame of being a little one.

I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?

Ye fearful saints fresh courage take, The clouds you so much dread Are big with mercy and shall break, With blessings on your head

Then liberty, like day, Breaks on the soul, and by a flash from Heaven Fires all the faculties with glorious joy.

Folly ends where genuine hope begins.

If my resolution to be a great man was half so strong as it is to despise the shame of being a little one.

Those flimsy webs that break as soon as wrought, attain not to the dignity of thought.