For A Quart Of Ale Is A

Fie, Thou Dishonest Satan! I Call Thee By The Most Modest Terms; For I Am One Of Those Gentle Ones That Will Use The Devil Himself With Courtesy: Sayest Thou That House Is Dark?

The Apparel Oft Proclaims The Man.

Tis The Mind That Makes The Body Rich.

That God Forbid, That Made Me First Your Slave, I Should In Thought Control Your Times Of Pleasure, Or At Your Hand Th' Account Of Hours To Crave, Being Your Vassal Bound To Stay Your Leisure.

Sweets With Sweets War Not, Joy Delights In Joy.