A Time, Methinks, Too Short To Make

Sweet Flowers Are Slow And Weeds Make Haste.

It Is The Cowish Terror Of His Spirit That Dares Not Undertake; He'll Not Feel Wrongs Which Tie Him To An Answer.

If The Masses Can Love Without Knowing Why, They Also Hate Without Much Foundation.

Thus Have I, Wall, My Part Discharged So; And, Being Done, Thus Wall Away Doth Go.

Assume A Virtue If You Have It Not.