Where Love Is Great, The Littlest Doubts

If I Shall Be Condemned Upon Surmises, All Proofs Sleeping Else But What Your Jealousies Awake, I Tell You 'tis Rigor And Not Law.

To Lapse In Fulness Is Sorer Than To Lie For Need, And Falsehood Is Worse In Kings Than Beggars.

Alas, Our Frailty Is The Cause , Not We! For, Such As We Are Made Of, Such We Be.

As Good Luck Would Have It.

Bid Me Run, And I Will Strive With Things Impossible.