Dispute Not With Her: She Is Lunatic.

Farewell! God Knows When We Shall Meet Again.

Throw Physic To The Dogs; I'll None Of It.

The Clamorous Owl That Nightly Hoots And Wonders At Our Quaint Spirits.

I Think The Devil Will Not Have Me Damned, Lest The Oil That's In Me Should Set Hell On Fire.

When Remedies Are Past, The Griefs Are Ended By Seeing The Worst, Which Late On Hopes Depended. To Mourn A Mischief That Is Past And Gone Is The Next Way To Draw New Mischief On. What Cannot Be Preserved When Fortune Takes, Patience Her Injury A Mockery Makes. The Robb'd That Smiles Steals Something For The Thief; He Robs Himself That Spends A Bootless Grief.