Journeys End In Lovers Meeting.

There Are No Tricks In Plain And Simple Faith.

Merciful Heaven, Thou Rather With Thy Sharp And Sulphurous Bolt Splits The Unwedgeable And Gnarled Oak Than The Soft Myrtle; But Man, Proud Man, Dressed In A Little Brief Authority, Most Ignorant Of What He's Most Assured His Glassy Essence--like An Angry Ape Plays Such Fantastic Tricks Before High Heaven As Makes The Angels Weep; Who, With Our Spleens, Would All Themselves Laugh Mortal.

All's Well That Ends Well; Still The Fine's The Crown. Whate'er The Course, The End Is The Renown.

I Would Not Lose So Great An Honor As One Man More Methinks Would Share With Me For The Best Hope I Have.

A Man In All The World's New Fashion Planted, That Hath A Mint Of Phrases In His Brain.