Wine Loved I Deeply, Dice Dearly.

Winding Up Days With Toil And Nights With Sleep.

Silence Is The Perfect Herald Of Joy.

I Am Thy Father's Spirit; Doom'd For A Certain Term To Walk The Night And, For The Day, Confin'd To Fast In Fires, Till The Foul Crimes, Done In My Days Of Nature, Are Burnt And Purg'd Away.

Pleasure And Revenge Have Ears More Deaf Than Adders To The Voice Of Any True Decision.

Good Name In Man And Woman Is The Immediate Jewel Of Their Souls.