There's Small Choice In Rotten Apples.

And My Poor Fool Is Hanged! No, No, No Life! Why Should A Dog, A Horse, A Rat, Have Life, And Thou No Breath At All? Thou'lt Come No More, Never, Never, Never, Never, Never! Pray You, Undo This Button.

Set Honour In One Eye And Death I' The Other, And I Will Look On Both Indifferently.

Bell, Book And Candle Shall Not Drive Me Back, When Gold And Silver Becks Me To Come On.

Her Virtues, Graced With External Gifts, Do Breed Love's Settled Passions In My Heart; And Like As Rigour Of Tempestuous Gusts Provokes The Mightiest Hulk Against The Tide, So Am I Driven By Breath Of Her Renown Either To Suffer Shipwreck Or Arrive Where I May Have Fruition Of Her Love.

Loathsome Canker Lives In Sweetest Bud.