London, Thou Art The Flower Of Cities

Among My Friends Love Is A Payment. It Is An Old Debt For A Borrowing Foolishly Spent.

Neither Our Vices Nor Our Virtues Further The Poem.

Our Pleasance Here Is All Vain Glory, This False Warld Is But Transitory.

Scotsmen Are Metaphisical And Emotional, They Are Sceptical And Mystical, They Are Romantic And Ironic, They Are Cruel And Tender, And Full Of Mirth And Despair.

A Lawyer Who Does Not Know Men Is Handicapped.