As Chaste As Is The Bud Ere

And All My Mother Came Into Mine Eyes And Gave Me Up To Tears.

But As The Unthought-on Accident Is Guilty To What We Wildly Do, So We Profess Ourselves To Be The Slaves Of Chance, And Flies Of Every Wind That Blows.

Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit.

Give Thanks For What You Are Today And Go On Fighting For What You Gone Be Tomorrow

An Honest Man, Sir, Is Able To Speak For Himself, When A Knave Is Not.