Fools May Our Scorn, Not Envy, Raise.

Beasts Kill For Hunger, Men For Pay.

Follow Love And It Will Flee, Flee Love And It Will Follow Thee.

I Never, With Important Air, In Conversation Overbear. . . . . My Tongue Within My Lips I Rein; For Who Talks Much Must Talk In Vain.

Fair Is The Marigold, For Pottage Meet.

Fill It Up. I Take As Large Draughts Of Liquor As I Did Of Love. I Hate A Flincher In Either.