Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.

A hungry wolf at all the herd will run, In hopes, through many, to make sure of one.

No, I'm no enemy to learning; it hurts not me.

To find a young fellow that is neither a wit in his own eye, nor a fool in the eye of the world, is a very hard task.