A Rotten Case Abides No Handling.

I Have Of Late--but Wherefore I Know Not--lost All My Mirth, Forgone All Custom Of Exercise.

Love Is Your Master, For He Masters You; And He That Is So Yoked By A Fool Methinks Should Not Be Chronicled For Wise.

There's Place And Means For Every Man Alive.

You, And Your Lady, Take From My Heart All Thankfulness!

The Better Part Of Valor Is Discretion, In The Which Better Part I Have Saved My Life.