Modest Wisdom Plucks Me From Over-credulous Haste.

No, I Will Be The Pattern Of All Patience; I Will Say Nothing.

Simply The Thing That I Am Shall Make Me Live.

Love Is Like A Child, That Longs For Everything It Can Come By

Thou Art A Very Ragged Wart.

Thus Hath The Candle Sing'd The Moth. O These Deliberate Fools!