Of All The Flowers, Me Thinks A

There's Nothing In This World Can Make Me Joy: Life Is As Tedious As A Twice-told Tale Vexing The Dull Ear Of A Drowsy Man; And Bitter Shame Hath Spoil'd The Sweet World's Taste That It Yields Nought But Shame And Bitterness.

When The Age Is In, The Wit Is Out

It Easeth Some, Though None It Ever Cured, To Think Their Dolour Others Have Endured.

Hot Blood Begets Hot Thoughts, And Hot Thoughts Beget Hot Deeds, And Hot Deeds Is Love.

The Pleasing Punishment That Women Bear.