With Empty Hand No Man Can Lure

Whan That Aprill With His Shoures Soote The Droghte Of March Hath Perced To The Roote.

The Latter End Of Joy Is Woe.

My House Is Small, But You Are Learned Men And By Your Arguments Can Make A Place Twenty Foot Broad As Infinite As Space.

One Cannot Be Avenged For Every Wrong; According To The Occasion, Everyone Who Knows How, Must Use Temperance.

But All Thing Which That Shineth As The Gold Ne Is No Gold, As I Have Herd It Told.