By Heaven, I Love Thee Better Than

Within The Book And Volume Of Thy Brain.

Join Not With Grief, Fair Woman, Do Not So, To Make My End Too Sudden.

The Seeming Truth Which Cunning Times Put On To Entrap The Wisest.

To Wilful Men, The Injuries That They Themselves Procure Must Be Their Schoolmasters.

For What Good Turn? Messenger: For The Best Turn Of The Bed.