Praise Us As We Are Tasted, Allow

If I Shall Be Condemned Upon Surmises, All Proofs Sleeping Else But What Your Jealousies Awake, I Tell You 'tis Rigor And Not Law.

Of All Base Passions, Fear Is The Most Accursed.

She Is A Woman, Therefore To Be Won.

Go Wisely And Slowly. Those Who Rush Stumble And Fall.

Though Now This Grained Face Of Mine Be Hid In Sap-consuming Winter's Drizzled Snow, And All The Conduits Of My Blood Froze Up, Yet Hath My Night Of Life Some Memory, My Wasting Lamps Some Fading Glimmer Left, My Dull Deaf Ears A Little Use To Hear.