Rumor is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures.
A light heart lives long.
Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
O! she doth teach the torches to burn bright It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. - Romeo -
Men at some time are masters of their fates.
Speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice.