Nothing Violent, Oft Have I Heard Tell,

Hell Strives With Grace For Conquest In My Breast. What Shall I Do To Shun The Snares Of Death?

Now I Will Show Myselfto Have More Of The Serpent Than The Dove;that Is--more Knave Than Fool.

The Griefs Of Private Men Are Soon Allayed, But Not Of Kings.

All Places Are Alike, And Every Earth Is Fit For Burial.

Virginity, Albeit Some Highly Prize It, Compared With Marriage, Had You Tried Them Both, Differs As Much As Wine And Water Doth.