The Griefs Of Private Men Are Soon

Above Our Life We Love A Steadfast Friend.

There Is No Sin But Ignorance.

Cut Is The Branch That Might Have Grown Full Straight, And Burned Is Apollo's Laurel Bough, That Sometime Grew Within This Learned Man. Faustus Is Gone.

Nothing Violent, Oft Have I Heard Tell, Can Be Permanent.

Who Ever Loved That Loved Not At First Sight?