It Hurts Not The Tongue To Give

Security Is The Chief Enemy Of Mortals.

Good Luck Lies In Odd Numbers.

I Would That I Were Low Laid In My Grave. I Am Not Worth This Coil That's Made For Me.

Some Sins Do Bear Their Privilege On Earth, And So Doth Yours: Your Fault Was Not Your Folly; Needs Must You Lay Your Heart At His Dispose, Subjected Tribute To Commanding Love, Against Whose Fury And Unmatched Force The Aweless Lion Could Not Wage The Fight Nor Keep His Princely Heart From Richard's Hand.

Flout 'em, And Scout 'em; And Scout 'em, And Flout 'em; / Thought Is Free.