Confound These Ancestors... They've Stolen Our Best

Hang Sorrow, Care'll Kill A Cat.

No Simple Word That Shall Be Uttered At Our Mirthful Board, Shall Make Us Sad Next Morning; Or Affright The Liberty That We'll Enjoy To-night.

Language Most Shows A Man; Speak That I May See Thee; It Springs Out Of The Most Retired And Inmost Parts Of Us, And Is The Image Of The Parent Of It, The Mind. No Glass Renders A Man's Form Or Likeness So True As His Speech.

Affliction Teacheth A Wicked Person Sometime To Pray; Prosperity Never.

He That Departs With His Own Honesty For Vulgar , Doth It Too Dearly Buy.