Thank Me No Thankings, Nor

I Had Rather Be A Kitten, And Cry Mew, Than One Of These Same Meeter Ballad-mongers: I Had Rather Heare A Brazen Candlestick Turn'd, Or A Dry Wheele Grate On The Axle-tree, And That Would Set My Teeth Nothing An Edge, Nothing So Much, As Mincing Poetrie.

Good Wine Needs No Bush.

Do You Set Down Your Name In The Scroll Of Youth, That Are Written Down Old With All The Characters Of Age?

Thieves For Their Robbery Have Authority When Judges Steal Themselves.

Let Us Kill All Lawyers