If Gold Knew What Gold Is, Gold

Drink Not The Third Glass, Which Thou Canst Not Tame, When Once It Is Within Thee; But Before Mayst Rule It, As Thou List: And Pour The Shame, Which It Would Pour On Thee, Upon The Floor. It Is Most Just To Throw That On The Ground, Which Would Throw Me There, If I Keep The Round.

There Is No Heat Of Affection But Is Joyned With Some Idlenesse Of Brain, Says The Spaniard.

By Suppers More Have Been Killed Than Galen Ever Cured

No Church-yard Is So Handsom, That A Man Would Desire Straight To Bee Buried There. [no Churchyard Is So Handsome That A Man Would Desire Straight To Be Buried There.]

One Foote Is Better Then Two Crutches.