We Will Have Rings And Things And

He Hath Eaten Me Out Of House And Home.

Defer No Time, Delays Have Dangerous Ends.

There Is A Tide In The Affairs Of Men

If Reasons Were As Plentiful As Blackberries, I Would Give No Man A Reason Upon Compulsion.

Look What Thy Soul Holds Dear, Imagine It To Lie That Way Thou Goest, Not Whence Thou Com'st. Suppose The Singing Birds Musicians, The Grass Whereon Thou Tread'st The Presence Strewed, The Flowers Fair Ladies, And Thy Steps No More Than A Delight Measure Or A Dance; For Gnarling Sorrow Hath Less Power To Bite The Man That Mocks At It And Sets It Light.