Good Luck Lies In Odd Numbers.

No Might Nor Greatness In Mortality Can Censure 'scape; Back- Wounding Calumny The Whitest Virtue Strikes. What King So Strong Can Tie The Gall Up In The Slanderous Tongue?

Their Savage Eyes Turned To A Modest Gaze By The Sweet Power Of Music.

A Little Fire Is Quickly Trodden Out, Which, Being Suffer'd, Rivers Cannot Quench.

The Wounds Invisible That Love's Keen Arrows Make.

Men Should Be What They Seem; Or Those That Be Not, Would They Might Seem None!.