Death Is A Fearful Thing.

Were Kisses All The Joys In Bed, One Woman Would Another Wed.

Every Man Has A Bag Hanging Before Him, In Which He Puts His Neighbour's Faults, And Another Behind Him In Which He Stows His Own.

Be Not Thy Tongue Thy Own Shame's Orator.

If The Skin Were Parchment And The Blows You Gave Were Ink, Your Own Handwriting Would Tell You What I Think.

Speak Of Me As I Am. Nothing Extenuate, Nor Set Down Aught In Malice.