The World's An Inn; And I Her

Put Off Thy Cares With Thy Clothes; So Shall Thy Rest Strengthen Thy Labour, And So Shall Thy Labour Sweeten Thy Rest.

Gaze Not On Beauty Too Much, Lest It Blast Thee; Nor Too Long, Lest It Blind Thee; Nor Too Near, Lest It Burn Thee. If Thou Like It, It Deceives Thee; If Thou Love It, It Disturbs Thee; If Thou Hunt After It, It Destroys Thee. If Virtue Accompany It, It Is The Heart's Paradise; If Vice Associate It, It Is The Soul's Purgatory. It Is The Wise Man's Bonfire, And The Fool's Furnace.

Death Aims With Fouler Spiteat Fairer Marks.

The Suburbs Of Folly Is Vain Mirth, And Profuseness Of Laughter Is The City Of Fools.

The Next Way Home's The Farthest Way About.