The poets' scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives; all else is claimed by death.
"It is the mind that maketh good or ill, that maketh wretch or happy, rich or poor."
Beauty is the bait which with delight allures man to enlarge his kind.
He that strives to touch the stars oft stumbles at a straw.
"Sweete Themmes! runne softly, till I end my Song."