So Was Hir Jolly Whistel Wel Y-wette.

If Gold Rusts, What Then Can Iron Do?

What Is Better Than Wisdom? Woman. And What Is Better Than A Good Woman? Nothing.

That Field Hath Eyen, And The Wood Hath Ears.

The Guilty Think All Talk Is Of Themselves.

The Life So Brief, The Art So Long In The Learning, The Attempt So Hard, The Conquest So Sharp, The Fearful Joy That Ever Slips Away So Quickly - By All This I Mean Love, Which So Sorely Astounds My Feeling With Its Wondrous Operation, That When I Think Upon It I Scarce Know Whether I Wake Or Sleep.