What We Admire We Praise;

Events Of All Sorts Creep Or Fly Exactly As God Pleases.

Judge Not The Lord By Feeble Sense, But Trust Him For His Grace; Behind A Frowning Providence He Hides A Smiling Face.

I Will Venture To Assert, That A Just Translation Of Any Ancient Poet In Rhyme Is Impossible. No Human Ingenuity Can Be Equal To The Task Of Closing Every Couplet With Sounds Homotonous, Expressing At The Same Time The Full Sense, And Only The Full Sense Of His Original.

The Rich Are Too Indolent, The Poor Too Weak, To Bear The Insupportable Fatigue Of Thinking.

Toil For The Brave! The Brave That Are No More.