In A False Quarrel There

Like The Lily That Once Was Mistress Of The Field And Flourished, I'll Hang My Head And Perish.

I Am Not Of That Feather, To Shake Off My Friend When He Must Need Me

What A Pretty Thing Man Is When He Goes In His Doublet And Hose And Leaves Off His Wit!

A Man May See How This World Goes With No Eyes. Look With Thine Ears: See How Yond Justice Rails Upon Yon Simple Thief. Hark, In Thine Ear: Change Places; And, Handy-dandy, Which Is The Justice, Which Is The Thief?

Anger Is Like A Full Hot Horse, Who Being Allowed His Way, Self-mettle Tires Him.