Knowledge is proud that it knows so much; wisdom is humble that it knows no more.
But, oh, Thou bounteous Giver of all good, Thou art, of all Thy gifts, Thyself thy crown!
A noisy man is always in the right.
In a fleshly tomb, I am buried above ground.
With spots quadrangular of diamond form, ensanguined hearts, clubs typical of strife, and spades, the emblems of untimely graves.
I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, for how could we do without sugar and rum?