Is Twenty Hundred Kisses Such A Trouble?

This Rudeness Is A Sauce To His Good Wit, Which Gives Men Stomach To Digest His Words With Better Appetite.

Rude Am I In My Speech, And Little Blessed With The Soft Phrase Of Peace.

A Wretched Soul, Bruised With Adversity, We Bid Be Quiet When We Hear It Cry; But Were We Burdened With Light Weight Of Pain, As Much Or More We Should Ourselves Complain.

No Particular Scandal One Can Touch But It Confounds The Breather.

A Man Cannot Make Him Laugh; But That's No Marvel; He Drinks No Wine.... If I Had A Thousand Sons, The First Human Principle I Would Teach Them Should Be, To Forswear Thin Potations And To Addict Themselves To Sack.