Men Are April When They Woo, December

When Lenity And Cruelty Play For A Kingdom, The Gentler Gamester Is The Soonest Winner

All Places That The Eye Of Heaven Visits Are To A Wise Man Ports And Happy Havens. Teach Thy Necessity To Reason Thus; There Is No Virtue Like Necessity.

To Be Merry Best Becomes You; For, Out Of Question, You Were Born In A Merry Hour.

I Once Did Hold It, As Our Statists Do, A Baseness To Write Fair, And Labour'd Much How To Forget That Learning; But, Sir, Now It Did Me Yeoman's Service.

Were I The Moor I Would Not Be Iago. In Following Him I Follow But Myself; Heaven Is My Judge, Not I For Love And Duty, But Seeming So For My Peculiar End. For When My Outward Action Doth Demonstrate The Native Act And Figure Of My Heart In Compliment Extern, ’tis Not Long After But I Will Wear My Heart Upon My Sleeve For Daws To Peck At. I Am Not What I Am