God Defend Me From That Welsh Fairy,

Thy Food Is Such As Hath Been Belch'd On By Infected Lungs.

Nymph, In Thy Orisons Be All My Sins Remembered!

Dreams, Indeed, Are Ambition; For The Very Substance Of The Ambitious Is Merely The Shadow Of A Dream. And I Hold Ambition Of So Airy And Light A Quality That It Is But A Shadow's Shadow.

Thou Art A Very Ragged Wart.

I Do Not Hate A Proud Man, As I Do Hate The Engendering Of Toads.