Like Patience Gazing On Kings'

One Fire Burns Out Another's Burning, One Pain Is Lessen'd By Another's Anguish.

Thy Food Is Such As Hath Been Belch'd On By Infected Lungs.

By That Sin Fell The Angels.

We Must Follow, Not Force Providence.

These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends And In Their Triumph Die, Like Fire And Powder, Which As They Kiss Consume. The Sweetest Honey Is Loathsome In His Own Deliciousness And In The Taste Confounds The Appetite. Therefore Love Moderately; Long Love Doth So; Too Swift Arrives As Tardy As Too Slow.