Nor Use Too Swelling, Or Ill-sounded Words

Give Me A Look, Give Me A Face, That Makes Simplicity A Grace Robes Loosely Flowing, Hair As Free Such Sweet Neglect More Taketh Me Than All The Adulteries Of Art: They Strike Mine Eyes, But Not My Heart.

Books Are Faithful Repositories, Which May Be Awhile Neglected Or Forgotten, But When They Are Opened Again, Will Again Impart Their Instruction.

Weigh The Meaning And Look Not At The Words.

The Man That Is Once Hated, Both His Good And His Evil Deeds Oppress Him.

Thy Praise Or Dispraise Is To Me Alike; One Doth Not Stroke Me, Nor The Other Strike.