The World Is Not Thy Friend, Nor

A Good Heart 'is Worth Gold.

This Is A Way To Kill A Wife With Kindness.

The Loyalty, Well Held To Fools, Does Make Our Faith Mere Folly.

What Should We Speak Of When We Are Old As You? When We Shall Hear The Rain And Wind Beat Dark December? How, In This Our Pinching Cave, Shall We Discourse The Freezing Hours Away?

Zounds! I Was Never So Bethumped With Words Since I First Called My Brother's Father Dad.