War Is A Trade Of Kings.

Dreams Are But Interludes, Which Fancy Makes; When Monarch Reason Sleeps, This Mimic Wakes.

Home Is The Sacred Refuge Of Our Life.

Repentance Is The Virtue Of Weak Minds.

And He, Who Servilely Creeps After Sense, Is Safe, But Ne'er Will Reach An Excellence.

Love Is Love's Reward.