Rumor is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures.
Good counselors lack no clients.
I am wrapped in dismal thinking.
Nothing routs us but the villainy of our fears.
O call not me to justify the wrong, That thy unkindness lays upon my heart, Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue, Use power with power, and slay me not by art.
For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.