It Takes Nine Tailors To Make A

Every Cocke Is Proud On His Owne Dunghill.

She Is Nether Fish Nor Flesh, Nor Good Red Herring.

Tis Not The Robe Or Garment I Affect; For Who Would Marry With A Suit Of Clothes?

Went In At The One Ear And Out At The Other.

Better One Byrde In Hand Than Ten In The Wood.