Children blessings seem, but torments are.
Love reigns a very tyrant in my heart.
Honest men are the soft easy cushions on which knaves repose and fatten.
Honesty needs no disguise nor ornament; be plain.
Ambition is a lust that is never quenched, but grows more inflamed and madder by enjoyment.
Shining through tears, like April suns in showers, that labor to overcome the cloud that loads em.