Strikes Deeper, Grows With More Pernicious Root.

It Is The Witness Still Of Excellency To Put A Strange Face On His Own Perfection.

Falsehood Falsehood Cures

A Sentence Is But A Cheveril Glove To A Good Wit; How Quickly The Wrong Side May Be Turned Outward!

What's To Come Is Still Unsure: In Delay There Lies No Plenty; Then Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty, Youth's A Stuff Will Not Endure.

There Is A Time In The Affairs Of Men, Which, Taken At The Flood, Leads On To Fortune.