In Persons Grafted In A Serious Trust,

I Had Rather Chop This Hand Off At A Blow, And With The Other Fling It At Thy Face.

Good Name In Man And Woman, Dear My Lord, Is The Immediate Jewel Of Their Souls: Who Steals My Purse Steals Trash; ’tis Something, Nothing; ’twas Mine, ’tis His, And Has Been Slave To Thousands; But He That Filches From Me My Good Name Robs Me Of That Which Not Enriches Him, And Makes Me Poor Indeed.

The Law Hath Not Been Dead, Though It Hath Slept.

I Long To Hear The Story Of Your Life, Which Must Take The Ear Strangely.

Love All, Trust A Few, Do Wrong To None.