The Devil Can Only Destroy

Murder Will Out, This My Conclusion.

Til That The Brighte Sonne Loste His Hewe; For Th'orisonte Hath Reft The Sonne His Lyght; This Is As Muche To Seye As It Was Nyght!

The Handsome Gifts That Fate And Nature Lend Us Most Often Are The Very Ones That End Us.

Patience Is A Conquering Virtue.

If No Love Is, O God, What Fele I So? And If Love Is, What Thing And Which Is He? If Love Be Good, From Whennes Cometh My Woo? If It Be Wikke, A Wonder Thynketh Me