I Am Such A Tender Ass, If

When Workmen Strive To Do Better Than Well, They Do Confound Their Skill In Covetousness.

I Cannot Do It Without Comp[u]ters.

Now The Melancholy God Protect Thee, And The Tailor Make Thy Garments Of Changeable Taffeta, For Thy Mind Is Opal.

So Curses All Eve's Daughters Of What Complexion Soever.

But Men Are Men; The Best Sometimes Forget.