We Must Beat The Iron While It

The Thought Of Being Nothing After Death Is A Burden Insupportable To A Virtuous Man.

Let Grace And Goodness Be The Principal Loadstone Of Thy Affections. For Love Which Hath Ends, Will Have An End; Whereas That Which Is Founded On True Virtue, Will Always Continue.

Old As I Am, For Ladies' Love Unfit, The Power Of Beauty I Remember Yet.

Let Those Find Fault Whose Wit's So Very Small, They've Need To Show That They Can Think At All; Errors, Like Straws, Upon The Surface Flow; He Who Would Search For Pearls, Must Dive Below. Fops May Have Leave To Level All They Can; As Pigmies Would Be Glad To Lop A Man. Half-wits Are Fleas; So Little And So Light, We Scarce Could Know They Live, But That They Bite.

Fortune Confounds The Wise, And When They Least Expect It Turns The Dice.