What The Vengeance, Could He Not Speak

Take Heed, Dear Heart, Of This Large Privilege; The Hardest Knife Ill-used Doth Lose His Edge.

The Summer's Flower Is To The Summer Sweet Though To Itself It Only Live And Die

Season Your Admiration For A While.

Our Enemies Are Our Outward Consciences.

So Full Of Shapes Is Fancy That It Alone Is High Fantastical.