Blueness Doth Express Trueness.

Tis The Common Disease Of All Your Musicians That They Know No Mean, To Be Entreated, Either To Begin Or End.

Custom Is The Most Certain Mistress Of Language, As The Public Stamp Makes The Current Money.

In Small Proportions We Just Beauties See; And In Short Measures, Life May Perfect Be.

Silence In Woman Is Like Speech In Man.

Queen And Huntress, Chaste And Fair Now The Sun Is Laid To Sleep, Seated In Thy Silver Chair, State In Wonted Manner Keep: Hesperus Entreats Thy Light Goddess, Excellently Bright.