For Art May Err, But Nature Cannot

Nor Is The People's Judgment Always True: The Most May Err As Grossly As The Few.

All Flowers Will Droop In The Absence Of The Sun That Waked Their Sweets.

He Who Trusts Secrets To A Servant Makes Him His Master

Jealousy's A Proof Of Love, But 'tis A Weak And Unavailing Medicine; It Puts Out The Disease And Makes It Show, But Has No Power To Cure.

Blown Roses Hold Their Sweetness To The Last.