Nothing Emboldens Sin So Much As Mercy.

Give To A Gracious Message An Host Of Tongues, But Let Ill Tidings Tell Themselves When They Be Felt.

The Horn, The Horn, The Lusty Horn Is Not A Thing To Laugh To Scorn.

I Should Think This A Gull, But That The White-bearded Fellow Speaks It; Knavery Cannot, Sure, Hide Himself In Such Reverence.

What's The Newest Grief? Each Minute Tunes A New One.

I Swear Again, I Would Not Be A Queen For All The World.