He Thinks Too Much. Such Men Are

It Is Not, Nor It Cannot, Come To Good, But Break, My Heart, For I Must Hold My Tongue.

I May Chance Have Some Odd Quirks And Remnants Of Wit Broken On Me, Because I Have Railed So Long Against Marriage: But Doth Not The Appetite Alter? A Man Loves The Meat In His Youth That He Cannot Endure In His Age. Shall Quips And Sentences And These Paper Bullets Of The Brain Awe A Man From The Career Of His Humour? No, The World Must Be Peopled. When I Said I Would Die A Bachelor, I Did Not Think I Should Live Till I Were Married.

Grief Best Is Pleased With Grief's Society.

The Iron Tongue Of Midnight Hath Told Twelve Lovers, To Bed; 'tis Almost Fairy Time. I Fear We Shall Outstep The Coming Morn As Much As We This Night Over-watch'd.

The Gods Are Deaf To Hot And Peevish Vows. They Are Polluted Off'rings, More Abhorred! Than Spotted Livers In The Sacrifice.