Love, Which Teacheth Me That Thou And

The Eagle Suffers Little Birds To Sing, And Is Not Careful What They Mean Thereby, Knowing That With The Shadow Of His Wings He Can At Pleasure Stint Their Melody: Even So Mayest Thou The Giddy Men Of Rome.

Good Hay, Sweet Hay, Hath No Fellow.

Like As The Waves Make Towards The Pebbl'd Shore, So Do Our Minutes, Hasten To Their End.

How Well He's Read, To Reason Against Reading!

The Devil Can Cite Scripture For His Purpose. An Evil Soul Producing Holy Witness Is Like A Villain With A Smiling Cheek, A Goodly Apple Rotten At The Heart. O, What A Goodly Outside Falsehood Hath!