What Else May Hap, To Time I

And It Is Very Much Lamented,... That You Have No Such Mirrors As Will Turn Your Hidden Worthiness Into Your Eye That You Might See Your Shadow.

I Shall Laugh Myself To Death At This Puppy-headed Monster!

These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends And In Their Triumph Die, Like Fire And Powder, Which As They Kiss Consume. The Sweetest Honey Is Loathsome In His Own Deliciousness And In The Taste Confounds The Appetite. Therefore Love Moderately; Long Love Doth So; Too Swift Arrives As Tardy As Too Slow.

Good Night, Good Night! Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow, That I Shall Say Good Night Till It Be Morrow.

In Love The Heavens Themselves Do Guide The State; Money Buys Lands, And Wives Are Sold By Fate.