Death Hath So Many Doors To Let

Go Far - Too Far You Cannot, Still The Farther. The More Experience Finds You: And Go Sparing. One Meal A Week Will Serve You, And One Suit, Through All Your Travels; For You'll Find It Certain.

The Coward's Weapon, Poison.

Wine Works The Heart Up, Wakes The Wit; There Is No Cure 'gainst Age But It. And 'tis Late And Cold, Stir Up The Fire; Sit Close And Draw The Table Nigher; Be Merry And Drink Wine That Is Old, A Hearty Medicine 'gainst The Cold.

Care-charming Sleep, Thou Easer Of All Woes, Brother To Death, Sweetly Thyself Dispose.

Charity And Treating Begin At Home.