All Love's Pleasure Shall Not Match Its

The Will Is Infinite And The Execution Confin'd, The Desire Is Boundless And The Act A Slave To Limit.

Every Good Servant Does Not All Commands.

Honest Plain Words Best Pierce The Ear Of Grief.

Look What Thy Soul Holds Dear, Imagine It To Lie That Way Thou Goest, Not Whence Thou Com'st. Suppose The Singing Birds Musicians, The Grass Whereon Thou Tread'st The Presence Strewed, The Flowers Fair Ladies, And Thy Steps No More Than A Delight Measure Or A Dance; For Gnarling Sorrow Hath Less Power To Bite The Man That Mocks At It And Sets It Light.

A Man Cannot Make Him Laugh - But That's No Marvel; He Drinks No Wine.