The Best Is Yet To Come.

Many Strokes, Though With A Little Axe, Hew Down And Fell The Hardest-timber'd Oak.

'tis Pride That Pulls The Country Down.

Our Enemies Are Our Outward Consciences.

Well, God Give Them Wisdom That Have It; And Those That Are Fools, Let Them Use Their Talents.

Yet Do I Fear Thy Nature; It Is Too Full O' The Milk Of Human Kindness To Catch The Nearest Way: Thou Wouldst Be Great; Art Not Without Ambition, But Without The Illness Should Attend It: What Thou Wouldst Highly, That Wouldst Thou Holily; Wouldst Not Play False, And Yet Wouldst Wrongly Win.