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My house, my house, though thou art small, thou art to me the
Escuriall.
My house, my house, though thou art small, thou art to me the
Escuriall.
I hate all children of precocious talent.
I hate all children of precocious talent.
It's absurd to warme one in his armour.
It's absurd to warme one in his armour.
Only by the candle, held in the skeleton hand of Poverty, can man
read his own dark heart.
Only by the candle, held in the skeleton hand of Poverty, can man
read his own dark heart.
An old dog barks not in vain.
An old dog barks not in vain.
Manie things are lost for want of asking.
Manie things are lost for want of asking.
Good is the mora that makes all sure.
Good is the mora that makes all sure.
The big thieves hang the little ones.
The big thieves hang the little ones.
What loss feels he that wots not what he loses?
What loss feels he that wots not what he loses?
