Slow seems their speed whose thoughts before them run.

All slander must still be strangled in its birth, or time will soon conspire to make it strong enough to overcome the truth.

All jealousy must be strangled in its birth.

The assembled souls of all that men held wise.

How much pleasure they lose (and even the pleasures of heroic poesy are not unprofitable) who take away the liberty of a poet, and fetter his feet in the shackles of a historian.

How beautiful is sorrow when it is dressed by virgin innocence! it makes felicity in others seem deformed.

Since knowledge is but sorrow's spy, It is not safe to know.