... I Am At War 'twixt Will

The Moon's An Arrant Thief, And Her Pale Fire She Snatches From The Sun.

Assume A Virtue, If You Have It Not. That Monster, Custom, Who All Sense Doth Eat, Of Habits Devil, Is Angel Yet In This, That To The Use Of Actions Fair And Good He Likewise Gives A Frock Or Livery That Aptly Is Put On. Refrain Tonight, And That Shall Lend A Kind Of Easiness To The Next Abstinence; The Next More Easy; For Use Almost Can Change The Stamp Of Nature.

Give Every Man Thy Ear, But Few Thy Voice.

Suit The Action To The Word, The Word To The Action.

Divers Philosophers Hold That The Lips Is Parcel Of The Mouth.