I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks.

There is little choice in a barrel of rotten apples.

I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an almsman's gown, My figured goblets for a dish of wood, My scepter for a palmer's walking staff My subjects for a pair of carved saints and my large kingdom for a little grave.

For honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey a sauce to sugar.

Let me be boiled to death with melancholy.

We make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars; as if we were villians by compulsion.

A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.