Thyself and thy belongings

Are not thine own so proper as to waste

Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee.

Heaven doth with us as we with torches do,

Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues

Did not go forth of us, 't were all alike

As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd

But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends

The smallest scruple of her excellence

But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines

Herself the glory of a creditor,

Both thanks and use.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Measure for Measure. Act i. Sc. 1.

Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne,

In rayless majesty, now stretches forth

Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world.

Edward Young (1684-1765): Night thoughts. Night i. Line 18.

Her track, where'er the goddess roves,

Glory pursue, and gen'rous shame,

Th' unconquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame.

Thomas Gray (1716-1771): The Progress of Poesy. II. 2, Line 10.

She moves a goddess, and she looks a queen.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): The Iliad of Homer. Book iii. Line 208.

Where'er he mov'd, the goddess shone before.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): The Iliad of Homer. Book xx. Line 127.

Achilles' wrath, to Greece the direful spring

Of woes unnumber'd, heavenly goddess, sing!

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): The Iliad of Homer. Book i. Line 1.

Stuff the head

With all such reading as was never read:

For thee explain a thing till all men doubt it,

And write about it, goddess, and about it.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744): The Dunciad. Book iv. Line 249.