The Web Of Our Life Is Of

Out Of My Sight! Thou Dost Infect Mine Eyes.

Reflection Is The Business Of Man; A Sense Of His State Is His First Duty: But Who Remembereth Himself In Joy? Is It Not In Mercy Then That Sorrow Is Allotted Unto Us?

The Private Wound Is Deepest. O Time Most Accurst, 'mongst All Foes That A Friend Should Be The Worst!

One Sin Another Doth Provoke.

There Was Never Yet Philosopher That Could Endure The Toothache Patiently