Give Every Man Thy Ear,

Women Are Not In Their Best Fortunes Strong, But Want Will Perjure The Ne'er-touched Vestal.

The Sweets We Wish For, Turn To Loathed Sours, Even In The Moment That We Call Them Ours.

What, No More Ceremony? See, My Women! Against The Blown Rose May They Stop Their Nose That Kneel'd Unto The Buds.

Fortune Brings In Some Boats That Are Not Steered.

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