The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.

It is the end that crowns us, not the fight.

I do love I know not what; Sometimes this, and sometimes that.

Whatever comes, let's be content withal: Among God's blessings there is no one small.

Men are suspicious; prone to discontent: Subjects still loathe the present Government.

Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score; Then to that twenty, add a hundred more: A thousand to that hundred: so kiss on, To make that thousand up a million. Treble that million, and when that is done, Let's kiss afresh, as when we first begun.

Temptations hurt not, though they have accesse; Satan o'ercomes none but by willingnesse.