I Fill Up A Place, Which May

Nor Stony Tower, Nor Walls Of Beaten Brass, Nor Airless Dungeon, Nor Strong Links Of Iron, Can Be Retentive To The Strength Of Spirit; But Life, Being Weary Of These Worldly Bars, Never Lacks Power To Dismiss Itself.

Courage Mounteth With Occasion.

Finish, Good Lady; The Bright Day Is Done, And We Are For The Dark.

I Am As Vigilant As A Cat To Steal Cream.

I Prithee Gentle Friend, Let Thy Fair Wisdom, Not Thy Passions, Sway In This Uncivil And Unjust Extent Against Thy Peace.