On their own merits modest men are dumb

Not to be sneezed at.

Praise the bridge that carried you over.

Oh, London is a fine town, A very famous city, Where all the streets are paved with gold, And all the maidens pretty.

Lord help you! Tell ’em Queen Anne's dead.

My father was an eminent button maker — but I had a soul above buttons — I panted for a liberal profession.

But when ill indeed, E'en dismissing the doctor don't always succeed.