People Can Die Of Mere Imagination.

Drunkenness Is The Very Sepulcher Of Man's Wit And His Discretion.

Go, Little Booke! Go, My Little Tragedie!

For Tyme Y-lost May Not Recovered Be.

We Little Know The Things For Which We Pray.

Loke Who That Is Most Vertuous Alway, Prive And Apert, And Most Entendeth Ay To Do The Gentil Dedes That He Can, And Take Him For The Gretest Gentilman.