Things Are Often Spoke And Seldom Meant.

If Thou Art Rich, Thou Art Poor; For, Like An Ass, Whose Back With Ingots Bows, Thou Bearest Thy Heavy Riches But A Journey, And Death Unloads Thee.

A Good Sherris-sack Hath A Twofold Operation In It. It Ascends Me Into The Brain,... Makes It Apprehensive, Quick, Forgetive, Full Of Nimble, Fiery, And Delectable Shapes.

The People Are The City.

Have I Caught Thee, My Heavenly Jewel? Why, Now Let Me Die, For I Have Lived Long Enough.

Bid The Dishonest Man Mend Himself; If He Mend, He Is No Longer Dishonest.