Stars, Hide Your Fires; Let

O, Then, What Graces In My Love Do Dwell, That He Hath Turn'd A Heaven Unto Hell

Better Three Hours Too Soon, Than One Hour To Late.

Self-love, My Liege, Is Not So Vile A Sin, As Self-neglecting.

Delay Leads Impotent And Snail-paced Beggary.

People’s Good Deeds We Write In Water. The Evil Deeds Are Etched In Brass.