An epigram is but a feeble thing - With straw in tail, stuck there by way of sting

A ten-word epigram to be accurate needs a ten-page footnote, yet what it lacks in accuracy it makes up in nimbleness

Ten thousand casks, Forever dribbling out their base contents, Touch'd by the Midas finger of the state, Bleed gold for ministers to sport away. Drink, and be mad then; 'tis your country bids!

For the Lord Jesus Christ's sake, Do all the good you can, To all the people you can, In all the ways you can, As long as ever you can.

Farewell, vain world, I've had enough of thee, And Valies't not what thou Can'st say of me; Thy Smiles I count not, nor thy frowns I fear, My days are past, my head lies quiet here. What faults you saw in me take Care to shun, Look but at home, enough is to be done.

Ecce quod expendi habui, quod donavi habeo, quod negavi punior, quod servavi perdidi.