Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a >>
Nothing can come of nothing. >>
Soft pity enters an iron gate. >>
Each mind is pressed, and open every ear, to hear new tidings, though >>
What a waste it is to lose one's mind. Or not to have a mind is being >>
Mind is the great lever of all things. >>
'Tis the mind that makes the body rich.