He That Has A House To Put's

If She Be Not Honest, Chaste, And True, There's No Man Happy.

We Make Ourselves Fools To Disport Ourselves And Spend Our Flatteries To Drink Those Men Upon Whose Age We Void It Up Again With Poisonous Spite And Envy.

All Lovers Swear More Performance Than They Are Able, And Yet Reserve An Ability That They Never Perform; Vowing More Than The Perfection Of Ten, And Discharging Less Than The Tenth Part Of One.

My Affection Hath An Unknown Bottom, Like The Bay Of Portugal.

I Am Never Merry When I Hear Sweet Music.