Whoe'er He Be That Tells My Faults,

Virtue May Choose The High Or Low Degree, 'tis Just Alike To Virtue, And To Me; Dwell In A Monk, Or Light Upon A King, She's Still The Same Belov'd, Contented Thing.

But Thousands Die Without Or This Or That, Die, And Endow A College Or A Cat.

Who Builds A Church To God And Not To Fame, Will Never Mark The Marble With His Name.

Get Your Enemy To Read Your Works In Order To Mend Them, For Your Friend Is So Much Your Second Self That He Will Judge Too Like You.

It Is Not So Much The Being Exempt From Faults, As Having Overcome Them, That Is An Advantage To Us.