If You Be Sick, Your Own Thoughts

Forbear, You Things That Stand Upon The Pinnacles Of State, To Boast Your Slippery Height! When You Do Fall, You Dash Yourselves In Pieces, Ne'er To Rise: And He That Lends You Pity, Is Not Wise.

Your Highest Female Grace Is Silence.

That Old Bald Cheater, Time.

Neither Do Thou Lust After That Tawny Weed Tobacco.

The World Knows Only Two, That's Rome And I.