Why, This Hath Not A Finger's Dignity.

Things Are Often Spoke And Seldom Meant.

Hereafter, In A Better World Than This, I Shall Desire More Love And Knowledge Of You

He Was A Man, Take Him For All In All, I Shall Not Look Upon His Like Again.

What Our Contempts Do Often Hurl From Us, We Wish It Ours Again.

My Free Drift Halts Not Particularly, But Moves Itself In A Wide Sea Of Wax; No Levelled Malice Infects One Comma In The Course I Hold, But Flies An Eagle Flight, Bold And Forth On, Leaving No Tract Behind.