Good Hay, Sweet Hay, Hath No Fellow.

Manhood Is Melted Into Courtesies, Valor Into Compliment, And Men Are Only Turned Into Tongue, And Trim Ones, Too.

Sweet Are The Uses Of Adversity Which, Like The Toad, Ugly And Venomous, Wears Yet A Precious Jewel In His Head.

I Will Praise Any Man That Will Praise Me.

I That Please Some, Try All, Both Joy And Terror Of Good And Bad, That Makes And Unfolds Error.

It Is To Be All Made Of Fantasy, All Made Of Passion And All Made Of Wishes, All Adoration, Duty, And Observance, All Humbleness, All Patience And Impatience, All Purity, All Trial, All Observance