Love Is Natures Second Sun.

Give Me A Spirit That On This Life's Rough Sea Loves T'have His Sails Filled With A Lusty Wind, Even Till His Sail-yards Tremble, His Masts Crack, And His Ship Run On Her Side So Low That She Drinks Water, And Her Keel Plows Air.

Words Writ In Waters.

They're Only Truly Great Who Are Truly Good.

And Let A Scholar All Earth's Volumes Carry, He Will Be But A Walking Dictionary: A Mere Articulate Clock.

The Incompetent Quickly Throws Himself Into Another Impressive Enterprise In Order To Escape His Responsibility From Previous Disaster.