I Heard A Bird So Sing, Whose

Conscience Doth Make Cowards Of Us All.

Don't Trust The Person Who Has Broken Faith Once.

Ay, Much Is The Force Of Heaven-bred Poesy.

We That Are True Lovers Run Into Strange Capers; But As All Is Mortal In Nature, So Is All Nature In Love Mortal In Folly.

Thy Wit Is A Very Bitter Sweeting; It Is A Most Sharp Sauce.