And Learn The Luxury Of Doing Good.

But Winter Lingering Chills The Lap Of May.

For Just Experience Tells, In Every Soil, That Those That Think Must Govern Those That Toil.

To Be Poor, And To Seem Poor, Is A Certain Method Never To Rise.

The First Blow Is Half The Battle.

What Cities, As Great As This, Have... Promised Themselves Immortality! Posterity Can Hardly Trace The Situation Of Some. The Sorrowful Traveller Wanders Over The Awful Ruins Of Others... Here Stood Their Citadel, But Now Grown Over With Weeds; There Their Senate-house, But Now The Haunt Of Every Noxious Reptile; Temples And Theatres Stood Here, Now Only An Undistinguished Heap Of Ruins.