While thou livest keep a good tongue in thy head.
I count myself in nothing else so happy as in a soul remembering my good Friends.
Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.
Give thanks for what you are today and go on fighting for what you gone be tomorrow.
All is uneven, 122 And everything is left at six and seven.
Let boors and franklins say it, I'll swear it.