Thou Art The Mars Of Malcontents.

The Brightness Of Her Cheek Would Shame Those Stars As Daylight Doth A Lamp; Her Eyes In Heaven Would Through The Airy Region Stream So Bright That Birds Would Sing, And Think It Were Not Night.

Those That Much Covet Are With Gain So Fond, For What They Have Not, That Which They Possess They Scatter And Unloose It From Their Bond, And So, By Hoping More, They Have But Less; Or, Gaining More, The Profit Of Excess Is But To Surfeit, And Such Griefs Sustain, That They Prove Bankrupt In This Poor-rich Gain.

I Count Myself In Nothing Else So Happy As In A Soul Remembering My Good Friends

A Grandma's Name Is Little Less In Love Than Is The Doting Title Of A Mother.

If To Do Were As Easy As To Know What Were Good To Do, Chapels Had Been Churches, And Poor Men’s Cottages Princes’ Palaces. It Is A Good Divine That Follows His Own Instructions: I Can Easier Teach Twenty What Were Good To Be Done, Than Be One Of The Twenty To Follow Mine Own Teaching.