I Am Not Merry, But I Do

By My Troth, I Care Not; A Man Can Die But Once; We Owe God A Death And Let It Go Which Way It Will He That Dies This Year Is Quit For The Next

I Am But Mad North-north-west. When The Wind Is Southerly, I Know A Hawk From A Handsaw.

A Substitute Shines Brightly As A King Until A King Be By, And Then His State Empties Itself, As Dot An Inland Brook Into The Main Of Waters.

Be Cheerful; Wipe Thine Eyes: Some Falls Are Means The Happier To Arise

Nothing Routs Us But The Villainy Of Our Fears.