How Now, Wit! Whither Wander You?

A Lion Among Ladies Is A Most Dreadful Thing.

Love Surfeits Not, Lust Like A Glutton Dies; Love Is All Truth, Lust Full Of Forged Lies

Give Every Man Thy Ear, But Few Thy Voice.

In Black Ink My Love May Still Shine Bright.

What's Gone, And What's Past Help, Should Be Past Grief.