My Way Of Life Is Fall'n Into

Go Wisely And Slowly. Those Who Rush Stumble And Fall.

Our Doubts Are Traitors And Make Us Lose The Good We Oft Might Win By Fearing To Attempt.

So Many Hours Must I Take My Rest; So Many Hours Must I Contemplate.

Though Men Can Cover Crimes With Bold, Stern Looks, Poor Women's Faces Are Their Own Faults' Books.

New Customs, Though They Be Never So Ridiculous (nay, Let Em Be Unmanly), Yet Are Followed.