Gold--the Picklock That Never Fails.

Death Hath A Thousand Doors To Let Out Life.

Such As Ne'er Saw Swans May Think Crows Beautiful.

Pleasures Of Worse Natures Are Gladly Entertained, And They That Shun Us Practice In Private Sports The Stews Would Blush At.

To Doubt Is Worse Than To Have Lost; And To Despair Is But To Antedate Those Miseries That Must Fall On Us.

Without Good Company All Dainties Lose Their True Relish, And Like Painted Grapes, Are Only Seen, Not Tasted.