Melancholy Is The Nurse Of

Men At Sometime Are The Masters Of Their Fate.

If There Be No Great Love In The Beginning, Yet Heaven May Decrease It Upon Better Acquaintance, When We Are Married And Have More Occasion To Know One Another: I Hope, Upon Familiarity Will Grow More Contempt.

There Is Throats To Be Cut, And Works To Be Done.

The Gallantry Of His Grief Did Put Me Into A Towering Passion.

There's Beggary In Love That Can Be Reckoned