Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens to the which our wills are gardeners.

There is not one wise man in twenty that will praise himself.

O Lord that lends me life, Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!

Soft pity enters an iron gate.

For I can raise no money by vile means.

. . from this moment The very firstlings of my heart shall be The firstlings of my hand. And even now, To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done.

God defend the right.