All That Glitters Is Not Gold.

I Can See His Pride Peep Through Each Part Of Him.

Let Every Man Be Master Of His Time.

Ruin Has Taught Me To Ruminate, That Time Will Come And Take My Love Away. This Thought Is As A Death, Which Cannot Choose But Weep To Have That Which It Fears To Lose.

Beware The Ides Of March.

All Gold And Silver Rather Turn To Dirt, An 'tis No Better Reckoned But Of These Who Worship Dirty Gods.