“What do too many cooks spoil?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“The broth,” said I.
“What’s an idle brain?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“The devil’s workshop,” said I.
“What may a cat look at?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“A king,” said I.
“What’s truth stranger than?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“Fiction,” said I.
“What’s there many a slip betwixt?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“The cup and the lip,” said I.