Journeys End In Lovers Meeting.

Is It Not Strange, That Sheep's Guts Should Hale Souls Out Of Men's Bodies!

My Crown Is In My Heart, Not On My Head; Not Decked With Diamonds And Indian Stones, Nor To Be Seen: My Crown Is Called Content, A Crown It Is That Seldom Kings Enjoy.

When The Sea Was Calm All Ships Alike Showed Mastership In Floating.

The Soul Of This Man Is His Clothes.

Alas, Their Love May Be Call'd Appetite. No Motion Of The Liver, But The Palate