Thou Knowest, Winter Tames Man, Woman, And

He That Is Truly Dedicated To War Hath No Self-love

Our Fancies Are More Giddy And Unfirm, More Longing, Wavering, Sooner Lost And Won, Than Women's Are.

Truth Hath A Quiet Breast.

Small To Greater Matters Must Give Way.

Be Merry; You Have Cause, So Have We All, Of Joy; For Our Escape Is Much Beyond Our Loss . . . . Then Wisely Weigh Our Sorrow With Our Comfort.