Help, Master, Help! Here's A Fish Hangs

He Doth Nothing But Talk Of His Horses.

There Is No Such Sport As Sport By Sport O'erthrown.

You Abilities Are Too Infant-like For Doing Much Alone.

A College Of Wit-crackers Cannot Flout Me Out Of My Humor. Dost Thou Think I Care For A Satire Or An Epigram?

But 'tis Common Proof, That Lowliness Is Young Ambition's Ladder, Whereto The Climber-upward Turns His Face; But When He Once Attains The Upmost Round, He Then Turns His Back, Looks In The Clouds, Scorning The Vase Defrees By Which He Did Ascend.