I Always Seem To Suffer Some Loss

I Will Not Hide My Tastes Or Aversions. I Will So Trust That What Is Deep Is Holy, That I Will Do Strongly Before The Sun And Moon Whatever Only Rejoices Me, And The Heart Appoints

At The Gates Of The Forest, The Surprised Man Of The World Is Forced To Leave His City Estimates Of Great And Small, Wise And Foolish.

Everything Runs To Excess; Every Good Quality Is Noxious If Unmixed.

The Rhyme Of The Poet Modulates The King's Affairs.

In The Highest Civilization The Book Is Still The Highest Delight.