In Shame There Is No Comfort But

But Words Came Halting Forth, Wanting Invention's Stay; Invention, Nature's Child, Fled Stepdame Study's Blows; And Others' Feet Still Seemed But Strangers In My Way. Thus, Great With Child To Speak, And Helpless In My Throes, Biting My Truant Pen, Beating Myself For Spite: "fool," Said My Muse To Me, "look In Thy Heart, And Write.

Whatever Comes Out Of Despair Cannot Bear The Title Of Valor, Which Should Be Lifted Up To Such A Height That Holding All Things Under Itself, It Should Be Able To Maintain Its Greatness, Even In The Midst Of Miseries.

There Is Nothing So Great That I Fear To Do It For My Friend; Nothing So Small That I Will Disdain To Do It For Him.

In The Truly Great, Virtue Governs With The Sceptre Of Knowledge.

Nothing Has A Letter Effect Upon Children Than Praise.