There's A Proud Modesty In Merit; Averse

Few Know The Use Of Life Before 'tis Past.

Parting Is Worse Than Death; It Is Death Of Love!

They Think Too Little Who Talk Too Much.

I Learn To Pity Woes So Like My Own.

None, None Descends Into Himself, To Find The Secret Imperfections Of His Mind: But Every One Is Eagle-ey'd To See Another's Faults, And His Deformity.