I Perceive Affection Makes A Fool Of

Where It Concerns Himself, Who's Angry At A Slander, Makes It True.

Whom The Disease Of Talking Still Once Posses-seth, He Can Never Hold His Peace.

My Thoughts And I Were Of Another World.

It Is A Note Of Upstart Greatness To Observe And Watch For These Poor Trifles, Which The Noble Mind Neglects And Scorns.

That Praises Are Without Reason Lavished On The Dead, And That The Honours Due Only To Are Paid To Antiquity, Is A Complaint Likely To Be Always Continued By Those Who, Being Able To Add Nothing To Truth, Hope For Eminence From The Heresies Of Paradox; Or Those Who, Being Forced By Disappointment Upon Consolatory Expedients, Are Willing To Hope From Posterity What The Present Age Refuses, And Flatter Themselves That The Regard Which Is Yet Denied By Envy Will Be At Last Bestowed By Time.