There Is No Greater Hell Than To

Wine It Is The Milk Of Venus, And The Poet's Horse Accounted: Ply It And You All Are Mounted.

All The Wise World Is Little Else, In Nature, But Parasites Or Subparasites.

He That Would Have His Virtue Published, Is Not The Servant Of Virtue, But Glory.

Cares That Have Entered Once In The Breast, Will Have Whole Possession Of The Rest.

I Am Beholden To Calumny, That She Hath So Endeavored To Belie Me.-it Shall Make Me Set A Surer Guard On Myself, And Keep A Better Watch Upon My Actions.