Those Who Know The Least Obey The

No Woman Can Be A Beauty Without A Fortune.

Hanging And Marriage, You Know, Go By Destiny.

Like Hungry Guests, A Sitting Audience Looks / Plays Are Like Suppers; Poets Are The Cooks / The Founder's You; The Table Is This Place / The Carvers We; The Prologue Is The Grace / Each Act A Course, Each Scene, A Different Dish.

I Hate All That Don't Love Me, And Slight All That Do.

'tis A Strange Thing, Sam, That Among Us People Can't Agree The Whole Week, Because They Go Different Ways Upon Sundays.