The Person Is A Poor Judge Who

I Loathe My Own Face, And I've Done Self-portraits Because I've Had Nobody Else To Do.

A King That Would Not Feel His Crown Too Heavy For Him, Must Wear It Every Day; But If He Think It Too Light, He Knoweth Not Of What Metal It Is Made.

That Which Above All Other Yields The Sweetest Smell In The Air Is The Violet.

For My Name And Memory I Leave To Men's Charitable Speeches, And To Foreign Nations And The Next Ages.

If I Might Control The Literature Of The Household, I Would Guarantee The Well-being Of Church And State.