Can Any Mortal Mixture Of

Zeal And Duty Are Not Slow But On Occasion's Forelock Watchful Wait.

I Cannot Praise A Fugitive And Cloistered Virtue, Unexercised And Unbreathed, That Never Sallies Out And Sees Her Adversary, But Slinks Out Of The Race Where That Immortal Garland Is To Be Run For, Not Without Dust And Heat.

Vain Wisdom All, And False Philosophy.

Dark With Excessive Bright.

Better To Reign In Hell Than Serve In Heav'n.