On Rumor's Tongue Continual Slanders Ride.

You Cannot Call It Love, For At Your Age The Heyday In The Blood Is Tame

I Always Thought It Was Both Impious And Unnatural That Such Immanity And Bloody Strife Should Reign Among Professors Of One Faith.

Cease Thy Counsel, For Thy Words Fall Into My Ears As Priceless As Water Into A Seive.

If Music Be The Food Of Love, Play On.

A Man Should Be What He Seems.