Men At Some Time Are Masters Of

Mine Eyes Were Not In Fault, For She Was Beautiful; Mine Ears, That Heard Her Flattery; Nor My Heart, That Thought Her Like Her Seeming. It Had Been Vicious To Have Mistrusted Her.

How Is It That The Clouds Still Hang On You?

Give Thy Thoughts No Tongue, Nor Any Unproportioned Thought His Act. Be Thou Familiar But By No Means Vulgar.

The Hand That Hath Made You Fair Hath Made You Good.

The Weakest Goes To The Wall.