We Are Time's Subjects, And Time Bids

Every Good Servant Does Not All Commands.

Tis Not A Year Or Two Shows Us A Man: They Are All But Stomachs, And We All But Food; They Eat Us Hungerly, And When They Are Full They Belch Us.

See What A Ready Tongue Suspicion Hath!

Crack'd In Pieces By Malignant Death.

Since I Do Purpose To Marry, I Will Think Nothing To Any Purpose That The World Can Say Against It; And Therefore Never Floutat Me For What I Have Said Against It; For Man Is A Giddy Thing, And This Is My Conclusion.