Nor For My Peace Will

I'll Give Anything For A Good Copy Now, Be It True Or False, So It Be News.

Give Me A Look, Give Me A Face, That Makes Simplicity A Grace Robes Loosely Flowing, Hair As Free Such Sweet Neglect More Taketh Me Than All The Adulteries Of Art: They Strike Mine Eyes, But Not My Heart.

Folly Often Goes Beyond Her Bounds, But Impudence Knows None.

Books Are Faithful Repositories, Which May Be Awhile Neglected Or Forgotten, But When They Are Opened Again, Will Again Impart Their Instruction.

A Good Poet's Made As Well As Born.