The Object Of Art Is To Give

May Never Glorious Sun Reflex His Beams Upon The Country Where You Make Abode! But Darkness And The Gloomy Shade Of Death Environ You Till Mischief And Despair Drive You To Break Your Necks Or Hang Yourselves.

What Are You Doing Sister? / Killing Swine.

Time Is The King Of Men.

Very Good Orators, When They Are Out, They Will Spit; And For Lovers, Lacking--god Warn Us!--matter, The Cleanliest Shift Is To Kiss.

A Very Little Thief Of Occasion Will Rob You Of A Great Deal Of Patience.