The Weakest Goes To The Wall.

That Thou Art Blamed Shall Not Be Thy Defect, For Slander's Mark Was Ever Yet The Fair; The Ornament Of Beauty Is Suspect, A Crow That Flies In Heaven's Sweetest Air.

They That Touch Pitch Will Be Defiled.

All The World's A Stage ... And You Better Have A Zoning Variance Or It's Coming Down.

And Either Victory, Or Else A Grave.

How Well He's Read, To Reason Against Reading!