Short Summers Lightly Have A Forward Spring.

For Murder, Though It Have No Tongue, Will Speak With Most Miraculous Organ.

Now Join Your Hands, And With Your Hands Your Hearts.

Drink, Sir, Is A Great Provoker Of Three Things . . . Nose-painting, Sleep, And Urine. Lechery, Sir, It Provokes, And Unprovokes; It Provokes The Desire, But It Takes Away The Performance.

O, What A Goodly Outside Falsehood Hath!

In Time We Hate That Which We Often Fear.