What Is Past Is Prologue.

O Momentary Grace Of Mortal Men, Which We More Hunt For Than The Grace Of God!

No Particular Scandal One Can Touch But It Confounds The Breather.

To Mingle Friendship Far Is Mingling Bloods.

A Contract Of Eternal Bond Of Love, Confirm'd By Mutual Joinder Of Your Hands, Arrested By The Holy Close Of Lips, Strength'ned By The Interchangement Of Your Rings, And All The Ceremony Of This Compact Seal'd In My Function, By My Testimony.

Thus May Poor Fools Belive False Teachers.