I'll Have No Husband, If

Go Wisely And Slowly. Those Who Rush Stumble And Fall.

How Strange Or Odd Some'er I Bear Myself, As I Perchance Hereafter Shall Think Meet To Put An Antic Disposition On.

Last Scene Of All That Ends This Strange, Eventful History, Is Second Childishness And Mere Oblivion. I Am Sans Teeth, Sans Eyes, Sans Taste, Sans Everything.

Care Keeps His Watch In Every Old Man’s Eye, And Where Care Lodges, Sleep Will Never Lie.

There Is No Vice So Simple But Assumes Some Mark Of Virtue On His Outward Parts.