But Miserable Most, To Love Unloved? This

The Fool Multitude, That Choose By Show, Not Learning More Than The Fond Eye Doth Teach.

To Show Our Simple Skill, That Is The True Beginning Of Our End.

This Is The Short And The Long Of It.

A Woman Moved Is Like A Fountain Troubled, Muddy, Ill-seeming, Thick, Bereft Of Beauty.

His Worst Fault Is, He's Given To Prayer; He Is Something Peevish That Way.