On The Stage He Was Natural, Simple,

Near Yonder Thorn, That Lifts Its Head On High, Where Once The Sign-post Caught The Passing Eye, Low Lies That House Where Nut-brown Draughts Inspired, Where Graybeard Mirth And Smiling Toil Retired, Where Village Statesmen Talk'd With Looks Profound, And News Much Older Than Their Ale Went Round.

People Seek Within A Short Span Of Life To Satisfy A Thousand Desires, Each Of Which Is Insatiable.

Aromatic Plants Bestow No Spicy Fragrance While They Grow; But Crush'd Or Trodden To The Ground, Diffuse Their Balmy Sweets Around.

There Is Nothing So Absurd Or Ridiculous That Has Not At Some Time Been Said By Some Philosopher.

Those Who Think Must Govern Those That Toil.