The Weakest Kind Of Fruit Drops Earliest

Thou Slave, Thou Wretch, Thou Coward! Thou Little Valiant, Great In Villainy! Thou Ever Strong Upon The Stronger Side! Thou Fortune's Champion, That Dost Never Fight But Where Her Humorous Ladyship Is By To Teach Thee Safety.

There's Neither Honesty, Manhood, Nor Good Fellowship In Thee.

All Men's Faces Are True, Whatsome'er Their Hands Are.

They Say Best Men Are Molded Out Of Faults, And, For The Most, Become Much More The Better For Being A Little Bad

She Speaks Poniards, And Every Word Stabs.