No Simple Word That Shall Be Uttered

Fear To Do Base, Unworthy Things Is Valor; If They Be One To Us, To Suffer Them Is Valor Too.

The Poet Is The Nearest Borderer Upon The Orator.

How Fortune Piles Her Sports When She Begins To Practise Them!

Memory, Of All The Powers Of The Mind, Is The Most Delicate And Frail.

I Feel My Griefs Too, And There Scarce Is Ground Upon My Flesh T'inflict Another Wound. Yet Dare I Not Complain, Or Wish For Death With Holy Paul; Lest It Be Thought The Breath Of Discontent; Or That These Prayers Be For Weariness Of Life, Not Love Of Thee.