Thank You For Nothing.

I Do Not Say A Proverb Is Amiss When Aptly And Reasonably Applied, But To Be Forever Discharging Them, Right Or Wrong, Hit Or Miss, Renders Conversation Insipid And Vulgar.

My Memory Is So Bad That Many Times I Forget My Own Name.

I Had Rather Munch A Crust Of Brown Bread And An Onion In A Corner, Without Any More Ado Or Ceremony, Than Feed Upon Turkey At Another Man?s Table, Where One Is Fain To Sit Mincing And Chewing His Meat An Hour Together, Drink Little, Be Always Wiping His Fingers And His Chops, And Never Dare To Cough Nor Sneeze, Though He Has Never So Much A Mind To It, Nor Do A Many Things Which A Body May Do Freely By One?s Self.

Jealousy Sees Things Always With Magnifying Glasses Which Make Little Things Large, Of Dwarfs Giants, Of Suspicions Truths.

In The Night All Cats Are Gray.