Opinion, A Sovereign Mistress Of Effects.

A Knot You Are Of Damned Bloodsuckers.

He Doth Nothing But Talk Of His Horses.

Sometimes We Are Devils To Ourselves When We Will Tempt The Frailty Of Our Powers, Presuming On Their Changeful Potency.

Conscience Is A Blushing, Shamefaced Spirit Than Mutinies In A Man's Bosom; It Fills One Full Of Obstacles.

Summer's Lease Hath All Too Short A Date.