True Apothecary Thy Drugs Art Quick

I Am A Subject, And I Challenge Law. Attorneys Are Denied Me, And Therefore Personally I Lay My Claim To My Inheritance Of Free Descent.

No Man's Pie Is Freed From His Ambitious Finger.

Look What Thy Soul Holds Dear, Imagine It To Lie That Way Thou Goest, Not Whence Thou Com'st. Suppose The Singing Birds Musicians, The Grass Whereon Thou Tread'st The Presence Strewed, The Flowers Fair Ladies, And Thy Steps No More Than A Delight Measure Or A Dance; For Gnarling Sorrow Hath Less Power To Bite The Man That Mocks At It And Sets It Light.

The King Hath Note Of All That They Intend, By Interception Which They Dream Not Of.

We Do Not Keep The Outward Form Of Order, Where There Is Deep Disorder In The Mind.