The Clock Upbraids Me With

You Lie, In Faith; For You Are Call'd Plain Kate, And Bonny Kate And Sometimes Kate The Curst; But Kate, The Prettiest Kate In Christendom Kate Of Kate Hall, My Super-dainty Kate, For Dainties Are All Kates, And Therefore, Kate, Take This Of Me, Kate Of My Consolation; Hearing Thy Mildness Praised In Every Town, Thy Virtues Spoke Of, And Thy Beauty Sounded, Yet Not So Deeply As To Thee Belongs, Myself Am Moved To Woo Thee For My Wife.

Fools Are Not Mad Folks.

The Hand That Hath Made You Fair Hath Made You Good.

Time Is The Nurse And Breeder Of All Good.

There Was Never Yet Philosopher That Could Endure The Toothache Patiently