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• Ye banks and braes o' bonny Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
  How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu' o' care?...
• But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane, In proving foresight may be vai
  The best laid schemes o' mice an' men Gang aft a-gley, An' lea'e us nought but grief and pain For promised joy....
• Kings may be blest, but Tam was glorious, O'er a' the ills o' life victorious.
  -- Robert Burns (1759-1796) -- Tam o' Shante...
• Inspiring, bold John Barleycorn, What dangers thou canst make us scorn!
  -- Robert Burns (1759-1796) -- Tam o' Shante...
• If naebody care for me, I 'll care for naebody.
  -- Robert Burns (1759-1796) -- I hae a Wife o' my Ai...
• O Death the Healer, scorn thou not, I pray, To come to me
  of cureless ills thou art The one physician. Pain lays not its touch Upon a corpse....
• I waive the quantum o' the sin, The hazard of concealing
  But, och! it hardens a' within, And petrifies the feeling!...
• The landlord's laugh was ready chorus. -- Robert Burns (1759-1796) -- Tam o' Shante
• Morality, thou deadly bane, Thy tens o'thousands thou hast slain! -- Robert Burns (1756-1796)