You Know That I Do Fawn On

O, The Blood More Stirs To Rouse A Lion Than To Start A Hare!

Weep Not, Sweet Queen, For Trickling Tears Are Vain.

He Who Has Injured Thee Was Either Stronger Or Weaker Than Thee. If Weaker, Spare Him; If Stronger, Spare Thyself.

Silence Is The Perfectest Herald Of Joy: I Were But Little Happy, If I Could Say How Much. Lady, As You Are Mine, I Am Yours: I Give Away Myself For You And Dote Upon The Exchange.

Nothing Is So Common As The Wish To Be Remarkable.(attributed To)