Men From Children Nothing Differ.

It Was Always Yet The Trick Of Our English Nation, If They Have A Good Thing, To Make It Too Common.

Affliction Is Enamoured Of Thy Parts, And Thou Art Wedded To Calamity.

I Am A Great Eater Of Beef, And I Believe That Does Harm To My Wit.

I Have A Kind Soul That Would Give You Thanks. And Knows Not How To Do It But With Tears.

I Heard A Bustling Rumor Like A Fray, And The Wind Blows It From The Capitol.