We Are The Buffoons Of Our Children.

Why Should The Eyes Be Denied What Delights Them Most?

Poetry Is A Whim Of Nature In Her Lighter Moods; It Requires Nothing But Its Own Madness And, Lacking That, It Becomes A Soundless Cymbal, A Belfry Without A Bell.

If You Want To Annoy Your Neighbors, Tell The Truth About Them.

Flattery And Deceit Are The Darlings Of Great Men, And So With These Men Spread The Butter On Thick, If You Want To Get Something Out Of Them, Otherwise You'll Come Home To Me With A Full Belly And An Empty Purse.

Age Has A Good Mind And Sorry Shanks.