Drawn by conceit from reason's plan How vain is that poor creature man; How pleas'd in ev'ry paltry elf To grate about that thing himself.

Who often, but without success, have prayed for apt Alliteration's artful aid.

England a fortune-telling host, As num'rous as the stars, could boast; Matrons, who toss the cup, and see The grounds of Fate in grounds of tea.

Genius is of no country.

Nature listening stood, whilst Shakespeare play'd And wonder'd at the work herself had made.

When satire flies abroad on falsehood's wing, Short is her life, and impotent her sting; But when to truth allied, the wound she gives Sinks deep, and to remotest ages lives.

The surest way to health, say what they will, Is never to suppose we shall be ill; Most of the ills which we poor mortals know From doctors and imagination flow.

Weak is that throne, and in itself unsound, Which takes not solid virtue for its ground.

A joke's a very serious thing.

No tribute is laid on castles in the air.

The rigid saint, by whom no mercy's shown To saints whose lives are better than his own.

True wisdom lies in gathering the precious things out of each day as it goes by.

I just like music that sounds like music. Not like machines and computers and things that you design to make things sound slick and perfect.

I train and I go home, and when I'm home, I think about training. That's my life every day, and that's it.

When girls come up and say, "You're my role model," it's really flattering, but it's also really scary because I'm not perfect and I'm going to make mistakes.

I have used all the manure that has been thrown on me as fertilizer to make me stronger.

You hold onto religion, you know, rules, regulations, traditions. I think what God is interested in is people's hearts, and that's hard enough.

Run for office? No. I've slept with too many women, I've done too many drugs, and I've been to too many parties.

I see the invisible spirits, where demons still find it livable. I need a hug to hold my soul inside my body.

It ought to be the business of every day to prepare for our last day.

Power is more safely retained by cautious than by severe councils. [Lat., Potentiam cautis quam acribus consiliis tutius haberi.]