It Is The Stars, The Stars Above

So Will I Turn Her Virtue Into Pitch, And Out Of Her Own Goodness Make The Net That Shall Enmesh Them All.

Tears Harden Lust, Though Marble Wear With Raining.

How Well He's Read, To Reason Against Reading!

A Smile Cures The Wounding Of A Frown.

'tis Dangerous To Take A Cold, To Sleep, To Drink; But I Tell You, My Lord Fool, Out Of This Nettle, Danger, We Pluck This Flower, Safety.