Patience Is Sottish, And Impatience

My Crown Is In My Heart, Not On My Head; Not Decked With Diamonds And Indian Stones, Nor To Be Seen: My Crown Is Called Content, A Crown It Is That Seldom Kings Enjoy.

Friends Now Fast Sworn, Whose Double Bosoms Seems To Wear One Heart, Whose Hours, Whose Bed, Whose Meal And Exercise Are Still Together, Who Twin, As 'twere, In Love, Unseparable, Shall Within This Hour, On A Dissension Of A Doit, Break Out To Bitterest Enmity; So Fellest Foes, Whose Passions And Whose Plots Have Broke Their Sleep To Take The One The Other, By Some Chance, Some Trick Not Worth An Egg, Shall Grow Dear Friends And Interjoin Their Issues.

As True As Steel, As Plantage To The Moon, As Sun To Day, At Turtle To Her Mate, As Iron To Adamant, As Earth To Centre.

Care Is No Cure, But Rather Corrosive, For Things That Are Not To Be Remedied.

Too Nice, And Yet Too True!