What's His Offense? Groping For Trout In

Like Madness, Is The Glory Of This Life.

Time, That Takes Survey Of All The World, Must Have A Stop.

A Beggar's Book Outworths A Noble's Blood.

That God Forbid, That Made Me First Your Slave, I Should In Thought Control Your Times Of Pleasure, Or At Your Hand Th' Account Of Hours To Crave, Being Your Vassal Bound To Stay Your Leisure.

All That Glitters Is Not Gold.