Some Evils Are Cured By Contempt.

Divine Grace Was Never Slow.

The Little Cannot Bee Great, Unlesse He Devoure Many. [the Little Cannot Be Great Unless He Devour Many.]

Better Speake Truth Rudely, Then Lye Covertly.

He That Pitties Another, Remembers Himselfe.

Sorrow Was All My Soul; I Scarce Believed, Till Grief Did Tell Me Roundly, That I Lived.