The Burnt Child Dreads The

Fortune, Thou Hadst No Deity, If Men Had Wisdom.

The Devil Is An Ass , I Do Acknowledge It.

My Thoughts And I Were Of Another World.

I Have No Urns, No Dusty Monuments; No Broken Images Of Ancestors, Wanting An Ear, Or Nose; No Forged Tales Of Long Descents, To Boast False Honors From.

I Remember, The Players Have Often Mentioned It As An Honour To Shakespeare, That In His Writing (whatsoever He Penned) He Never Plotted Out A Line. My Answer Hath Been, Would He Had Blotted A Thousand.