Give Me, Kind Heaven, A Private Station,

Fill It Up. I Take As Large Draughts Of Liquor As I Did Of Love. I Hate A Flincher In Either.

No Retreat. No Retreat. They Must Conquer Or Die Who've No Retreat.

In Love We Are All Fools Alike.

Why Is The Hearse With Scutcheons Blazon'd Round, And With The Nodding Plume Of Ostrich Crown'd? No; The Dead Know It Not, Nor Profit Gain; It Only Serves To Prove The Living Vain.

[gulliver Was Soon Being Read] "from The Cabinet Council To The Nursery".