He knew / Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.

The first and wisest of them all professed to know this only, that he nothing knew

The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.

If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door.

I knew I always wanted to sing.

Pully, hauly, tug with a will; the gods wiggle waggle, but the sky stands still.