Great Honours Are Great Burdens, But On

Come, My Celia, Let Us Prove, While We Can, The Sports Of Love, Time Will Not Be Ours For Ever, He, At Length, Our Good Will Sever; Spend Not Then His Gifts In Vain: Suns That Set May Rise Again; But If Once We Lose This Light, 'tis With Us Perpetual Night. Why Should We Defer Our Joys? Fame And Rumour Are But Toys.

Books Are Faithful Repositories, Which May Be Awhile Neglected Or Forgotten, But When They Are Opened Again, Will Again Impart Their Instruction.

Folly Often Goes Beyond Her Bounds, But Impudence Knows None.

Let Those That Merely Talk And Never Think, That Live In The Wild Anarchy Of Drink

I'll Give Anything For A Good Copy Now, Be It True Or False, So It Be News.