We Have Some Salt Of Our Youth

The Even Mead, That Erst Brought Sweetly Forth The Freckled Cowslip, Burnet, And Green Clover, Wanting The Scythe, All Uncorrected, Rank, Conceives By Idleness, And Nothing Teems But Hateful Docks, Rough Thistles, Kecksies, Burrs, Losing Both Beauty And Utility.

But No Perfection Is So Absolute, That Some Impurity Doth Not Pollute.

I Have Seen Better Faces In My Time Than Stands On Any Shoulder That I See Before Me At This Instant.

The Rarer Action Is In Virtue Than In Vengeance.

In Friendship, As In Love, We Are Often Happier Through Our Ignorance Than Our Knowledge.