Small To Greater Matters Must

I Will Not Trust You, I, Nor Longer Stay In Your Curst Company. Your Hands Than Mine Are Quicker For A Fray, My Legs Are Longer Though, To Run Away.

I Am Not Mad; I Would To Heaven I Were! For Then, 'tis Like I Should Forget Myself; O, If I Could, What Grief Should I Forget!

I Had Rather Live With Cheese And Garlic In A Windmill.

He That Dies Pays All Debts.

I Pardon Him, As God Shall Pardon Me.