Like A Barber's Chair That Fits All

Oft Have I Heard That Grief Softens The Mind And Makes It Fearful And Degenerate.

Well, God Give Them Wisdom That Have It; And Those That Are Fools, Let Them Use Their Talents.

God Defend Me From That Welsh Fairy, Lest He Transform Me To A Piece Of Cheese!

Now, By The World, It Is A Lusty Wench; I Love Her Ten Times More Than E'er I Did: O, How I Long To Have Some Chat With Her!

Besides, They Are Our Outward Consciences, And Preachers To Us All, Admonishing That We Should Drew Us Fairly For Our End.