Do Not Spread The Compost On The

Grace Me No Grace, Nor Uncle Me No Uncle; I Am No Traitor's Uncle, And That Word "grace" In An Ungracious Mouth Is But Profane.

I Had Rather Be A Dog, And Bay The Moon, Than Such A Roman.

You Are Not Worth Another Word, Else I'd Call You Knave.

They Are Fairies; He That Speaks To Them Shall Die. I'll Wink And Couch; No Man Their Works Must Eye.

Men In Rage Strike Those That Wish Them Best.