For A Quart Of Ale Is A

We Are Not Ourselves When Nature, Being Oppressed, Commands The Mind To Suffer With The Body.

Fortune Brings In Some Boats That Are Not Steered.

Nay, Do Not Think I Flatter. For What Advancement May I Hope From Thee, That No Revenue Hast But Thy Good Spirits To Feed And Clothe Thee? Why Should The Poor Be Flattered?

He That Keeps Not Crust Nor Crum Weary Of All, Shall Want Some.

It Is Not Vain Glory For A Man And His Glass To Confer In His Own Chamber.