I Scorn You, Scurvy Companion.

What's Brave, What's Noble, Let's Do It After The Roman Fashion.

Courage And Comfort, All Shall Yet Go Well

Your Lordship, Though Not Clean Past Your Youth, Have Yet Some Smack Of Age In You, Some Relish Of The Saltiness Of Time.

Tis A Happy Thing To Be The Father Unto Many Sons.

We Must Take The Current When It Serves, Or Lose Our Ventures.