The Fly That Sips Treacle Is Lost

There Is No Dependence That Can Be Sure But A Dependence Upon One's Self.

Fools May Our Scorn, Not Envy, Raise. For Envy Is A Kind Of Praise.

Fair Words Cost Nothing.

Man May Escape From Rope And Gun; Nay, Some Have Outlived The Doctor's Pill: Who Takes A Woman Must Be Undone, That Basilisk Is Sure To Kill. The Fly That Sips Treacle Is Lost In The Sweets, So He That Tastes Woman, Woman, Woman, He That Tastes Woman, Ruin Meets.

If With Me You'd Fondly Stray Over The Hills And Far Away.