Rumour Doth Double, Like The Voice And

Who Soars Too Near The Sun, With Golden Wings, Melts Them.

The Gates Of Monarchs Are Arched So High That Giants May Jet Through And Keep Their Impious Turbans On Without Good Morrow To The Sun.

Strikes Deeper, Grows With More Pernicious Root.

Affection Faints Not Like A Pale-faced Coward, But Then Woos Best When Most His Choice Is Froward.

Delay Leads Impotent And Snail-paced Beggary.