My Love Is As A Fever, Longing

I Am Indeed, Sir, A Surgeon To Old Shoes; When They Are In Great Danger I Recover Them.

Extremity Is The Trier Of Spirits.

Of All The Flowers, Me Thinks A Rose Is Best.

Age Cannot Wither Her, Nor Custom Stale Her Infinite Variety.

Whatever Praises Itself But In The Deed, Devours The Deed In The Praise.