Exceeds Man's Might: That Dwells With The

Our Wills And Fates Do So Contrary Run, That Our Devices Still Are Overthrown; Our Thoughts Are Ours, Their Ends None Of Our Own.

Well, God Give Them Wisdom That Have It; And Those That Are Fools, Let Them Use Their Talents.

Beauty's A Doubtful Good, A Glass, A Flower, Lost, Faded, Broken, Dead Within An Hour; And Beauty, Blemish'd Once, For Ever's Lost, In Spite Of Physic, Painting, Pain, And Cost.

The Latter End Of A Fray, And The Beginning Of A Feast, Fits A Dull Fighter, And A Keen Guest.

Thy Words, I Grant Are Bigger, For I Wear Not, My Dagger In My Mouth.