Never Anger Made Good Guard For Itself.

I Am Not Of That Feather, To Shake Off My Friend When He Must Need Me

Set Your Heart At Rest. The Fairyland Buys Not The Child Of Me.

O, Here Will I Set Up My Everlasting Rest And Shake The Yoke Of Inauspicious Stars From The World-wearied Flesh

Men's Evil Manners Live In Brass; Their Virtues We Write In Water.

Love Moderately; Long Love Doth So; Too Swift Arrives As Tardy As Too Slow.