By My Soul I Swear, There Is

They Are Fairies; He That Speaks To Them Shall Die. I'll Wink And Couch; No Man Their Works Must Eye.

O Heaven! Were Man, But Constant, He Were Perfect.

No Reckoning Made, But Sent To My Account With All My Imperfections On My Head.

It Is Held That Valor Is The Chiefest Virtue, And Most Dignifies The Haver.

The Labor We Delight In Physics [cures] Pain.