Lawless Are They That Make Their Wills

And The More Pity That Great Folk Should Have Count'nance In This World To Drown Or Hang Themselves More Than Their Even-christen.

Hot Blood Begets Hot Thoughts, And Hot Thoughts Beget Hot Deeds, And Hot Deeds Is Love.

As True As Steel, As Plantage To The Moon, As Sun To Day, At Turtle To Her Mate, As Iron To Adamant, As Earth To Centre.

Sweet Flowers Are Slow And Weeds Make Haste.

Why, All Delights Are Vain; But That Most Vain, Which, With Pain Purchas'd, Doth Inherit Pain.