...the Poet, He Nothing Affirmeth,

Those Lovers Scorn Whom That Love Doth Possess? Do They Call Virtue There Ungratefulness?

It Depends On Education--that Holder Of The Keys Which The Almighty Hath Put Into Our Hands--to Open The Gates Which Lead To Virtue Or To Vice, To Happiness Or Misery.

O Sweet Woods, The Delight Of Solitariness!

Who Shoots At The Mid-day Sun, Though He Be So Sure He Shall Never Hit The Mark, Yet As Sure As He Is, He Shall Shoot Higher Than He Who Aims At A Bush.

I Willingly Confess That It Likes Me Better When I Find Virtue In A Fair Lodging Than When I Am Bound To Seek It In An Ill-favored Creature.