As The Twig Is Bent, So Grows

Fine Sense And Exalted Sense Are Not Half So Useful As Common Sense. There Are Forty Men Of Wit For One Man Of Sense; And He That Will Carry Nothing About Him But Gold, Will Be Every Day At A Loss For Want Of Readier Change.

Know Then This Truth, Enough For Man To Know Virtue Alone Is Happiness Below.

Truths Would You Teach, Or Save A Sinking Land? All Fear, None Aid You, And Few Understand.

All Nature Is But Art Unknown To Thee.

How Vast A Memory Has Love!