The Error Of Our Eye Directs Our

Venus Smiles Not In A House Of Tears.

How Much Salt Water Thrown Away In Waste/ To Season Love, That Of It Doth Not Taste.

Every Cloud Engenders Not A Storm.

I Shall The Effect Of This Good Lesson Keeps As Watchman To My Heart.

There Are A Sort Of Men, Whose Visages Do Cream And Mantle, Like A Standing Pond; And Do A Willful Stillness Entertain, With Purpose To Be Dressed In An Opinion Of Wisdom, Gravity Profound Conceit; As Who Should Say, I Am Sir Oracle, And When I Ope My Lips, Let No Dog Bark!