For God's Sake (i Never

Clap An Extinguisher Upon Your Irony If You Are Unhappily Blessed With A Vein Of It.

We Are Ashamed At The Sight Of A Monkey--somehow As We Are Shy Of Poor Relations.

Fly Not Yet; 't Is Just The Hour When Pleasure, Like The Midnight Flower That Scorns The Eye Of Vulgar Light, Begins To Bloom For Sons Of Night And Maids Who Love The Moon.

Tis Unpleasant To Meet A Beggar. It Is Painful To Deny Him; And, If You Relieve Him, It Is So Much Out Of Your Pocket.

Here Cometh April Again, And As Far As I Can See The World Hath More Fools In It Than Ever.