But Thought's The Slave Of Life, And

The Web Of Our Life Is Of A Mingled Yarn, Good And Ill Together: Our Virtues Would Be Proud If Our Faults Whipped Them Not; And Our Crimes Would Despair If They Were Not Cherished By Our Own Virtues.

Hanging And Wiving Goes By Destiny.

Be Collected. No More Amazement. Tell Your Piteous Heart There's No Harm Done.

To Set A Gloss On Faint Deeds, Hollow Welcomes, Recanting Goodness, Sorry Ere 'tis Shown; But Where There Is True Friendship, There Needs None.

An Two Men Ride Of A Horse, One Must Ride Behind.