Faire Is Not Faire, But That Which

Hee That Will Deceive The Fox, Must Rise Betimes.

Who Praiseth Saint Peter, Doth Not Blame Saint Paul.

Who Hath None To Still Him, May Weepe Out His Eyes. [who Hath None To Still Him, May Weep Out His Eyes.]

There Is An Hour Wherein A Man Might Be Happy All His Life, Could He Find It.

That Flesh Is But The Glasse, Which Holds The Dust That Measures All Our Time; Which Also Shall Be Crumbled Into Dust.