Proud People Breed Sad Sorrows For Themselves.

You Have Been Compelled To Cultivate Your Reflective Faculties, For Want Of Occasions For Frittering Your Life Away In Silly Trifles.

I'll Walk Where My Own Nature Would Be Leading: It Vexes Me To Choose Another Guide: Where The Grey Flocks In Ferny Glens Are Feeding; Where The Wild Wind Blows On The Mountain-side.

A Good Heart Will Help You To A Bonny Face, My Lad And A Bad One Will Turn The Bonniest Into Something Worse Than Ugly.

Oh, For The Time When I Shall Sleep Without Identity.

Look On The Grave Where Thou Must Sleep Thy Last, And Strongest Foe; It Is Endurance Not To Weep, If That Repose Seem Woe.