Whatsoever is worthy of their love is worth their anger.
Search not to find things too deeply hid; Nor try to know things whose knowledge is forbid. 
Such is our pride, our folly, or our fate, That few, but such as cannot write, translate.
Actions of the last age are like almanacs of the last year.
When any great design thou dost intend, Think on the means, the manner, and the end.
Nor ought a genius less than his that writ attempt translation. 
Who fears not to do ill fears the name, And free from conscience, is a slave to fame. 
You prove but too clearly that seeking to know Is too frequently learning to doubt. 