The Worst Men Often Give The Best

Dewdrops, Nature's Tears, Which She Sheds In Her Own Breast For The Fair Which Die. The Sun Insists On Gladness; But At Night, When He Is Gone, Poor Nature Loves To Weep.

The Worst Way To Improve The World Is To Condemn It.

A Poet Not In Love Is Out At Sea; He Must Have A Lay-figure.

Ah, Nothing Comes To Us Too Soon But Sorrow.

Life's But A Means Unto An End, That End, Beginning, Mean, And End To All Things--god.