The Rich Have No More Of The

To Be No Part Of Any Body, Is To Be Nothing.

Great Sorrows Cannot Speak.

Goe And Catche A Falling Starre, Get With Child A Mandrake Root, Tell Me, Where All Past Yeares Are, Or Who Cleft The Divel's Foot. Teach Me To Hear Mermaides' Singing, Or To Keep Of Envies Stinging, And Finde What Winde Serves To Advance An Honest Minde.

All Our Life Is But A Going Out To The Place Of Execution, To Death.

There Is No Health; Physicians Say That We, At Best, Enjoy But Neutrality.