Love reigns a very tyrant in my heart.
Dame Fortune, like most others of the female sex, is generally most indulgent to the nimble-mettled blockheads.
Shining through tears, like April suns in showers, that labor to overcome the cloud that loads em.
The worst thing an old man can be is a lover.
Justice is lame as well as blind, amongst us.
Honest men are the soft easy cushions on which knaves repose and fatten.