Our Whole Life Is Like A Play.

Minds That Are Great And Free, Should Not On Fortune Pause: 'tis Crown Enough To Virtue Still, Her Own Applause.

Ambition, Like A Torrent, Never Looks Back.

Good Men But See Death, The Wicked Taste It.

A Valiant Man Ought Not To Undergo, Or Tempt A Danger, But Worthily, And By Selected Ways, He Undertakes With Reason, Not By Chance. His Valor Is The Salt T' His Other Virtues, They're All Unseason'd Without It.

Come, My Celia, Let Us Prove, While We Can, The Sports Of Love, Time Will Not Be Ours For Ever, He, At Length, Our Good Will Sever; Spend Not Then His Gifts In Vain: Suns That Set May Rise Again; But If Once We Lose This Light, 'tis With Us Perpetual Night. Why Should We Defer Our Joys? Fame And Rumour Are But Toys.