Truth Is Truth To The End Of

Lives Like A Drunken Sailor On A Mast, Ready With Every Nod To Tumble Down Into The Fatal Bowels Of The Deep.

Gnawing With My Teeth My Bonds In Sunder, I Gain'd My Freedom.

A Good Man's Fortune May Grow Out At Heels.

What Time Hath Scanted Men In Hair, He Hath Given Them In Wit.

Methinks You Are My Glass, And Not My Brother: I See By You I Am A Sweet-faced Youth.