Your Highest Female Grace Is Silence.

A New Disease? I Know Not, New Or Old, But It May Well Be Called Poor Mortals Plague For, Like A Pestilence, It Doth Infect The Houses Of The Brain Till Not A Thought, Or Motion, In The Mind, Be Free From The Black Poison Of Suspect.

I Perceive Affection Makes A Fool Of Any Man Too Much The Father.

For Whose Sake, Henceforth, All His Vows Be Such, As What He Loves May Never Like Too Much.

I See Compassion May Become A Justice, Though It Be A Weakness, I Confess, And Nearer A Vice Than A Virtue.

A Good King Is A Public Servant.