As Ill-luck Would Have It.

'tis The Maddest Trick A Man Can Ever Play In His Whole Life, To Let His Breath Sneak Out Of His Body Without Any More Ado, And Without So Much As A Rap O'er The Pate, Or A Kick Of The Guts; To Go Out Like The Snuff Of A Farthing Candle, And Die Merely Of The Mulligrubs, Or The Sullens.

Truth Will Rise Above Falsehood As Oil Above Water.

My Thoughts Ran A Wool-gathering.

It Is One Thing To Praise Discipline, And Another To Submit To It.

Delay Always Heeds Danger.