Too Nice, And Yet Too True!

Now, By The World, It Is A Lusty Wench; I Love Her Ten Times More Than E'er I Did: O, How I Long To Have Some Chat With Her!

Men In Rage Strike Those That Wish Them Best.

Die For Adultery! No: The Wren Goes To't, And The Small Gilded Fly Does Lecher In My Sight

All The World's A Stage, And All The Men And Women Merely Players: They Have Their Exits And Their Entrances; And One Man In His Time Plays Many Parts, His Acts Being Seven Ages.

It Is Silliness To Live When To Live Is Torment.