The Way To Bliss Lies Not On

Of All Vices Take Heed Of Drunkenness; Other Vices Are But Fruits Of Disordered Affections--this Disorders, Nay, Banishes Reason; Other Vices But Impair The Soul--this Demolishes Her Two Chief Faculties, The Understanding And The Will; Other Vices Make Their Own Way--this Makes Way For All Vices; He That Is A Drunkard Is Qualified For All Vice.

What Treasures Here Do Mammon's Sons Behold! Yet Know That All That Which Glitters Is Not Gold.

O Lust, Thou Infernal Fire, Whose Fuel Is Gluttony; Whose Flame Is Pride, Whose Sparkles Are Wanton Words; Whose Smoke Is Infamy; Whose Ashes Are Uncleanness; Whose End Is Hell.

The Fountain Of Beauty Is The Heart And Every Generous Thought Illustrates The Walls Of Your Chamber.

My Soul, The Seas Are Rough, And Thou A Stranger In These False Coasts; O Keep Aloof; There's Danger; Cast Forth Thy Plummet; See, A Rock Appears; Thy Ships Want Sea-room; Make It With Thy Tears.