They Love Too Much That Die For

After A Christmas Comes A Lent.

Wedlock Is A Padlock.

I Love Thee Like Puddings; If Thou Wert Pie I'd Eat Thee.

The Wind In A Man's Face Makes Him Wise.

A Multitude Of Words Doth Rather Obscure Than Illustrate, They Being A Burden To The Memory, And The First Apt To Be Forgotten, Before We Come To The Last. So That He That Uses Many Words For The Explaining Of Any Subject, Doth, Like The Cuttle-fish, Hide Himself, For The Most Part, In His Own Ink.