For This Relief, Much Thanks

Sorrow Breaks Seasons And Reposing Hours, Makes The Night Morning, And The Noontide Night.

So, You Are Very Welcome To Our House. It Must Appear In Other Ways Than Words, Therefore, I Scant This Breathing Courtesy.

Beauty Within Itself Should Not Be Wasted.

I Have Not Slept One Wink.

O Sir, You Are Old; Nature In You Stands On The Very Verge Of Her Confine; You Should Be Ruled And Led By Some Discretion, That Discerns Your Fate Better Than You Yourself.