“If you put a chain around the neck of a slave, the other end fastens itself around your own.”

“Perpetual modernness is the measure of merit, in every work of art; since the author of it was not misled by anything short- livedor local, but abode by real and abiding traits.”

“The cruelest foe is a masked benefactor. The wars which make history so dreary have served the cause of truth and virtue.”

“Let us draw a lesson from nature, which always works by short ways. When the fruit is ripe, it falls.”

“I could better eat with one who did not respect the truth or the laws, than with a sloven and unpresentable person. Moral qualities rule the world, but at shorter distances, the senses are despotic.”

“Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.”

“I'll teach you differences.”

“Plutus himself,That knows the tinct and multiplying med'cine,Hath not in nature's mystery more scienceThan I have in this ring.”

“What light through yonder window breaks?”

“a wild dedication of yourselves To undiscovered waters, undreamed shores.”

“Every known fact in natural science was divined by the presentiment of somebody, before it was actually verified.”

“I that please some, try all, both joy and terrorOf good and bad, that makes and unfolds error.”

“Do all men kill the things they do not love?”

“If the masses can love without knowing why, they also hate without much foundation.”

“Let me be ignorant, and in nothing good, but graciously to know I am no better.”

“Lord Bacon told Sir Edward Coke when he was boasting, The less you speak of your greatness, the more shall I think of it.”

“So holy and so perfect is my love, And I in such a poverty of grace, That I shall think it a most plenteous crop To glean the broken ears after the man That the main harvest reaps.”

“He that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache”

“In friendship, as in love, we are often happier through our ignorance than our knowledge.”

“Were all the letters sun, I could not see one.”

“They may seizeOn the white wonder of dear Juliet's handAnd steal immortal blessing from her lips,Who, even in pure and vestal modesty,Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin.”

“There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting.”

“We wound our modesty and make foul the clearness of our deservings, when of ourselves we publish them.”