What The Vengeance, Could He Not Speak

Trust Not My Reading, Nor My Observations, Which With Experimental Seal Do Warrant The Tenor Of My Book.

Hot Blood Begets Hot Thoughts, And Hot Thoughts Beget Hot Deeds, And Hot Deeds Is Love.

I Durst Not Laugh For Fear Of Opening My Lips And Receiving The Bad Air.

A Time, Methinks, Too Short To Make A World-without-end Bargain In.

A Wicked Conscience Mouldeth Goblins Swift As Frenzy Thoughts.