All Impediments In Fancy's Course

Discomfort Guides My Tongue And Bids Me Speak Of Nothing But Despair.

Care Is No Cure, But Rather Corrosive, For Things That Are Not To Be Remedied.

Knavery's Plain Face Is Never Seen Till Used.

I Have No Way And Therefore Want No Eyes I Stumbled When I Saw. Full Oft 'tis Seen Our Means Secure Us, And Our Mere Defects Prove Our Commodities.

Miracles Are Ceased; And Therefore We Must Needs Admit The Means, How Things Are Perfected.