Profit Is A Blessing, If It's Not

Being Of No Power To Make His Wishes Good: His Promises Fly So Beyond His State That What He Speaks Is All In Debt; He Owes For Every Word.

The Worm Is Not To Be Trusted.

O God, O God, How Weary, Stale, Flat, And Unprofitable Seem To Me All The Uses Of This World!

You Are Made Rather To Wonder At The Things You Hear Than To Work Any.

For There Was Never Yet Philosoper That Could Endure The Toothache Patiently, However They Have Writ The Style Of Gods, And Made A Push At Chance And Sufferance.