“Thus, with child to speak, and helpless in my throes, biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite: Fool! said my muse to me, look in thy heart, and write.”
“Come Sleep! Oh Sleep, the certain knot of peace, the baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe, the poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release, the indifferent judge between the high and low.”
“In forming a judgment, lay your hearts void of foretoken opinions; else, whatsoever is done or said will be measured by a wrong rule; like them who have the jaundice, to whom everything appears yellow”
