All The Wise World Is Little Else,

There Is No Greater Hell Than To Be A Prisoner Of Fear.

Words Borrowed Of Antiquity Do Lend A Kind Of Majesty To Style, And Are Not Without Their Delight Sometimes. For They Have The Authority Of Years, And Out Of Their Intermission Do Win To Themselves A Kind Of Grace-like Newness. But The Eldest Of The Present, And Newest Of The Past Language, Is The Best.

Hell Itself Must Yield To Industry.

They, Who Know No Evil, Will Suspect None.

The Pipe Marks The Point At Which The Orangutan Ends And Man Begins.