The beggarly last doit.

But I, being poor, have only my dreams. I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

Thank God for poverty That makes and keeps us free, And lets us go our unobtrusive way, Glad of the sun and rain, Upright, serene, humane, Contented with the fortune of a day.

Spare feast! a radish and an egg.

I was a stricken deer, that left the herd / Long since.

Variety's the very spice of life, That gives it all its flavor.