Your Wisdom Is Consum'd In Confidence. Do

No Metal Can--no, Not The Hangman's Axe--bear Half The Keenness Of Thy Sharp Envy.

Fat Paunches Have Lean Pates, And Dainty Bits Make Rich The Ribs, But Backrout Quite The Wits.

Hot And Hasty, Like A Scotch Jig.

Before, I Loved Thee As A Brother, John, But Now, I Do Respect Thee As My Soul.

If To Do Were As Easy As To Know What Were Good To Do, Chapels Had Been Churches, And Poor Men’s Cottages Princes’ Palaces. It Is A Good Divine That Follows His Own Instructions: I Can Easier Teach Twenty What Were Good To Be Done, Than Be One Of The Twenty To Follow Mine Own Teaching.