Soul Of The Age! The Applause! Delight!

The Covetous Man Never Has Money. The Prodigal Will Have None Shortly.

You Are Not Now To Think What's Best To Do, As In Beginnings, But What Must Be Done, Being Thus Enter'd; And Slip No Advantage That May Secure You. Let Them Call It Mischief; When It Is Past, And Prosper'd , 'twill Be Virtue.

It Holds For Good Polity Ever, To Have That Outwardly In Vilest Estimation, Which Inwardly Is Most Dear To Us.

Confound These Ancestors... They've Stolen Our Best Ideas!

Each Petty Hand Can Steer A Ship Becalm'd; But He That Will Govern And Carry Her To Her Ends, Must Know His Tides, His Currents, How To Shift His Sails; What She Will Bear In Foul, What In Fair Weathers; Where Her Springs Are, Her Leaks, And How To Stop 'em; What Strands, What Shelves, What Rocks Do Threaten Her.