Light Boats Sail Swift, Though Greater Hulks

We All Are Men, In Our Own Natures Frail, And Capable Of Our Flesh; Few Are Angels.

Good God, The Souls Of All My Tribe Defend From Jealousy!

I Had Rather Have A Fool To Make Me Merry Than Experience To Make Me Sad And To Travel For It Too!

Golden Lads And Girls All Must As Chimney Sweepers Come To Dust.

No, No; 'tis All Men's Office To Speak Patience To Those That Wring Under The Load Of Sorrow, But No Man's Virtue Nor Sufficiency To Be So Moral When He Shall Endure The Like Himself. Therefore Give Me No Counsel: My Griefs Cry Louder Than Advertisement.