'tis Better To Be Vile Than Vile

Good Morning To You, Fair And Gracious Daughter.

When Once Our Grace We Have Forgot, Nothing Goes Right.

Many Strokes, Though With A Little Axe, Hew Down And Fell The Hardest-timber'd Oak.

There Is Little Choice In A Barrel Of Rotten Apples.

I Had Rather Be A Toad, And Live Upon The Vapor Of A Dungeon Than Keep A Corner In The Thing I Love For Others Uses.