Let Him Smell His Way To Dover!

He That Will Have A Cake Out Of The Wheat Must Tarry The Grinding.

He Knows What It's Like To Strut And Fret His Hour Upon The Stage And Then Be Heard No More.

I Do Know When The Blood Burns, How Prodigal The Soul Lends The Tongue Vows.

There's Place And Means For Every Man Alive.

Beauty Is Bought By Judgement Of The Eye.