When We Risk No Contradiction, It Prompts

The Careful Insect 'midst His Works I View, Now From The Flowers Exhaust The Fragrant Dew, With Golden Treasures Load His Little Thighs, And Steer His Distant Journey Through The Skies.

In Every Age And Clime We See Two Of A Trade Can Never Agree.

Fools May Our Scorn, Not Envy, Raise. For Envy Is A Kind Of Praise.

Can Love Be Controll'd By Advice?

Do You Think Your Mother And I Should Have Lived Comfortably So Long Together, If Ever We Had Been Married? Baggage!