What, Man, Defy The Devil. Consider, He's

No Reckoning Made, But Sent To My Account With All My Imperfections On My Head.

Why, All Delights Are Vain; But That Most Vain, Which, With Pain Purchas'd, Doth Inherit Pain.

It Is Not In The Stars To Hold Our Destiny But In Ourselves.

I Am In Blood Stepp'd In So Far, That, Should I Wade No More, Returning Were As Tedious As Go O'er.

Sigh No More, Ladies, Sigh No More, Men Were Deceivers Ever,- One Foot In Sea And One On Shore, To One Thing Constant Never.