Have You Not Heard It Said Full

I Have No Other But A Woman's Reason: I Think Him So, Because I Think Him So.

I Do Desire We May Be Better Strangers.

How Sometimes Nature Will Betray Its Folly, Its Tenderness, And Make Itself A Pastime To Harder Bosoms!

The Labor We Delight In Physics [cures] Pain.

Who Would Be So Mocked With Glory, Or To Live But In A Dream Of Friendship, To Have His Pomp And All What State Compounds But Only Painted, Like His Varnished Friends?