The Stroke Of Death Is As A

I Am Not Prone To Weeping As Our Sex Commonly Are; The Want Of Which Vain Dew Perchance Shall Dry Your Pities; But I Have That Honorable Grief Lodged Here Which Burns Worse Than Tears Drown.

A Man Can Die But Once.

Hasty Marriage Seldom Proveth Well.

An Honest Man, Sir, Is Able To Speak For Himself, When A Knave Is Not.

The Soul Of This Man Is His Clothes.