The Eating. By A Small Sample We

Urgent Necessity Prompts Many To Do Things, At The Very Thoughts Of Which They Perhaps Would Start At Other Times.

Sorrow Was Made For Man, Not For Beasts; Yet If Men Encourage Melancholy Too Much, They Become No Better Than Beasts.

But My Thoughts Ran A Wool-gathering; And I Did Like The Countryman, Who Looked For His Ass While He Was Mounted On His Back.

There's No Taking Trout With Dry Breeches.

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