Fair Is Foul, And Foul Is Fair,

Nature, As It Grows Again Toward Earth, Is Fashioned For The Journey, Dull And Heavy.

Wise Men Never Sit And Wail Their Loss, But Cheerily Seek How To Redress Their Harms.

Methinks A Father Is At The Nuptial Of His Son A Guest That Best Becomes The Table.

Let No Such Man Be Trusted.

Those Friends Thou Hast, And Their Adoption Tried, Grapple Them To Thy Soul With Hoops Of Steel; But Do Not Dull Thy Palm With Entertainment Of Each New-hatch'd, Unfledg'd Comrade.