Drown Thyself? Drown Cats And Blind Puppies.

This Passion, And The Death Of A Dear Friend, Would Go Near To Make A Man Look Sad.

Though Men Can Cover Crimes With Bold, Stern Looks, Poor Women's Faces Are Their Own Faults' Books.

She's Gone. I Am Abused, And My Relief Must Be To Loathe Her.

It Is A Good Divine That Follows His Own Instructions.

For I Have Neither Wit, Nor Words, Nor Worth, Action, Nor Utterance, Nor The Power Of Speech, To Stir Men's Blood: I Only Speak Right On; I Tell You That Which You Yourselves Do Know.