Free From Gross Passion Or Of Mirth

Though It Make The Unskillful Laugh, Cannot But Make The Judicious Grieve.

You Lack The Season Of All Natures, Sleep.

With Caution Judge Of Probability. Things Deemed Unlikely, E'en Impossible, Experience Oft Hath Proved To Be True.

The Eye Of Man Hath Not Heard, The Ear Of Man Hath Not Seen, Man's Hand Is Not Able To Taste, His Tongue To Conceive, Nor His Heart To Report, What My Dream Was.

Help, Master, Help! Here's A Fish Hangs In The Net, Like A Poor Man's Right In The Law; 'twill Hardly Come Out.