A Thing Well Said Will Be Wit

All Empire Is No More Than Power In Trust.

Moderate Sorrow Fits Vulgar Love, And For A Vulgar Man: But I Have Lov'd With Such Transcendent Passion, I Soar'd, At First, Quite Out Of Reason's View, And Now Am Lost Above It.

We By Art Unteach What Nature Taught.

Heaven Be Thanked, We Live In Such An Age, When No Man Dies For Love, But On The Stage.

Bacchus Ever Fair And Young, Drinking Joys Did First Ordain. Bachus's Blessings Are A Treasure, Drinking Is The Soldier's Pleasure, Rich The Treasure, Sweet The Pleasure- Sweet Is Pleasure After Pain.