He Threatens Many That Hath Injured One.

Silence In Woman Is Like Speech In Man.

He That Would Have His Virtue Published, Is Not The Servant Of Virtue, But Glory.

Wine It Is The Milk Of Venus, And The Poet's Horse Accounted: Ply It And You All Are Mounted.

In Small Proportions We Just Beauties See; And In Short Measures, Life May Perfect Be.

Passions Are Spiritual Rebels And Raise Sedition Against The Understanding.