Preferred Three Hours Quicker Over One Moment

The Robbed That Smiles, Steals Something From The Thief.

Golden Lads And Girls All Must As Chimney Sweepers Come To Dust.

I'll Be Damned For Never A King's Son In Christendom.

Indeed, Sir, He That Sleeps Feels Not The Toothache; But A Man That Were To Sleep Your Sleep, And A Hangman To Help Him To Bed, I Think He Would Change Places With His Officer; For Look You, Sir, You Know Not Which Way You Shall Go.

His Life Was Gentle; And The Elements So Mixed In Him, That Nature Might Stand Up And Say To All The World, This Was A Man!