Guilt's A Terrible Thing.

Forbear, You Things That Stand Upon The Pinnacles Of State, To Boast Your Slippery Height! When You Do Fall, You Dash Yourselves In Pieces, Ne'er To Rise: And He That Lends You Pity, Is Not Wise.

Great Honours Are Great Burdens, But On Whom They Are Cast With Envy, He Doth Bear Two Loads.

True Melancholy Breeds Your Perfect Fine Wit.

Weigh The Meaning And Look Not At The Words.

I Am Beholden To Calumny, That She Hath So Endeavored To Belie Me.-it Shall Make Me Set A Surer Guard On Myself, And Keep A Better Watch Upon My Actions.