Fishes Live In The Sea, As Men

Time Is The Old Justice That Examines All Such Offenders, And Let Time Try.

The Fool Multitude, That Choose By Show, Not Learning More Than The Fond Eye Doth Teach.

I Never Yet Did Hear, That The Bruis'd Heart Was Pierced Through The Ear

My Dear, Dear Lord, The Purest Treasure Mortal Times Afford Is Spotless Reputation; That Away Men Are But Gilded Loan Or Painted Clay... Mine Honor Is My Life; Both Grow In One; Take Honor From Me, And My Life Is Done.

Therefore, To Be Possess'd With Double Pomp, To Guard A Title That Was Rich Before, To Gild Refined Gold, To Paint The Lily, To Throw A Perfume On The Violet, To Smooth The Ice, Or Add Another Hue Unto The Rainbow, Or With Taper-light To Seek The Beauteous Eye Of Heaven To Garnish, Is Wasteful And Ridiculous Excess.