Wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes, but presently prevent the ways to wail.

I do desire we may be better strangers.

Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth

As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport.

In scorn of nature, art gave lifeless life.

Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee!

Thou shalt not stir one foot to seek a foe.