I Am Not In The Giving Vein

Pray, Do Not Mock Me. I Am A Very Foolish Fond Old Man, Fourscore And Upward, Not An Hour More Nor Less; And, To Deal Plainly, I Fear I Am Not In My Perfect Mind.

Oh, I Am Fortune's Fool!

But Love That Comes Too Late, Like A Remorseful Pardon Slowly Carried, To The Great Sender Turns A Sour Offense, Crying, 'that's Good That's Gone.

Better A Witty Fool Than A Foolish Wit.

I Cannot, Nor I Will Not Hold Me Still; My Tongue, Though Not My Heart, Shall Have His Will.