They Are Hare-brain'd Slaves.

There Is Nothing So Confining As The Prisons Of Our Own Perceptions.

If Our Virtues Did Not Go Forth Of Us, It Were All Alike As If We Had Them Not.

A Table Full Of Welcome Makes Scarce One Dainty Dish.

Who Can Be Patient In Extremes?

Now The Melancholy God Protect Thee, And The Tailor Make Thy Garments Of Changeable Taffeta, For Thy Mind Is Opal.