For In My Youth I Never Did

Like The Lily That Once Was Mistress Of The Field And Flourished, I'll Hang My Head And Perish.

Have More Than You Show, Speak Less Than You Know.

Love Reasons Without Reason.

I Have Heard Of Some Kind Of Men That Put Quarrels Purposely On Others, To Taste Their Valor.

I Will Be Master Of What Is Mine Own: She Is My Goods, My Chattels; She Is My House, My Household Stuff, My Field, My Barn, My Horse, My Ox, My Ass, My Any Thing.