I Would Treat Her Like An Egg,

Weak Mortals, Chained To The Earth, Creatures Of Clay As Frail As The Foliage Of The Woods, You Unfortunate Race, Whose Life Is But Darkness, As Unreal As A Shadow, The Illusion Of A Dream.

Poverty, The Most Fearful Monster That Ever Drew Breath.

Comedy Too Can Sometimes Discern What Is Right. I Shall Not Please, But I Shall Say What Is True.

Ye Children Of Man! Whose Life Is A Span, Protracted With Sorrow From Day To Day, Naked And Featherless, Feeble And Querulous, Sickly, Calamitous Creatures Of Clay!

Evil Events From Evil Causes Spring, And What You Suffer Flows From What You've Done.