But Thought's The Slave Of Life, And

I Hate Ingratitude More In A Man Than Lying, Vainness, Babbling, Drunkenness, Or Any Taint Of Vice Whose Strong Corruption Inhabits Our Frail Blood".

They Lie Deadly That Tell You Have Good Faces.

Though It Make The Unskillful Laugh, Cannot But Make The Judicious Grieve.

If She Be Not Honest, Chaste, And True, There's No Man Happy.

But I, That Am Not Shaped For Sportive Tricks, Nor Made To Court An Amorous Looking-glass; I, That Am Rudely Stamped, And Want Love's Majesty To Strut Before A Wanton Ambling Nymph.