Love And Toothache Have Many Cures, But

The Things Of This World Take Up Too Much Of My Time, Of Which Indeed I Have Too Little Left, To Undertake Anything Like A Reformation In Religion.

The Cunning Man Steals A Horse, The Wise Man Lets Him Alone.

Death Is A Fisherman, The World We See His Fish-pond Is, And We The Fishes Be; His Net Some General Sickness; Howe'er He Is Not So Kind As Other Fishers Be; For If They Take One Of The Smaller Fry, They Throw Him In Again, He Shall Not Die: But Death Is Sure To Kill All He Can Get, And All Is Fish With Him That Comes To Net.

Mankind Are Dastardly When They Meet With Opposition.

Everybody's Human-everybody Makes Mistakes. If You Laugh It Off And Keep Going And Try To Give It Your Best The Next Time Around, People Respect That.