True Hope Is Swift, And Flies With

The Purest Treasure Mortal Times Can Afford Is A Spotless Reputation.

When The Age Is In, The Wit Is Out

For This, Be Sure, Tonight Thou Shalt Have Cramps, Side-stitches That Shall Pen Thy Breath Up. Urchins Shall Forth At Vast Of Night That They May Work All Exercise On Thee. Thou Shalt Be Pinched As Thick As Honeycomb, Each Pinch More Stinging Than Bees That Made 'em.

How Many A Holy And Obsequious Tear Hath Dear Religious Love Stolen From Mine Eye, As Interest Of The Dead!

A Fusty Nut With No Kernel.