All that glitters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life has sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold Had you been as wise as bold, Your in limbs, in judgment old, Your answer had not been in'scroll'd Fare you well: your suit is cold.' Cold, indeed, and labour lost: Then, farewell, heat and welcome, frost!

Tax not so bad a voice to slander music any more than once.

I shall the effect of this good lesson keeps as watchman to my heart.

Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth But that our soft conditions and our hearts Should well agree with our external parts?

Society is no comfort, to one not sociable.

Remembrance of things past.

I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed!