Brevity Is The Soul Of

To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old, For As You Were When First Your Eye I Ey'd, Such Seems Your Beauty Still.

He Must Needs Go That The Devil Drives.

And Yet, By Heaven, I Think My Love As Rare As Any She Belied With False Compare.

She Is A Woman, Therefore To Be Won.

Care Is No Cure, But Rather Corrosive, For Things That Are Not To Be Remedied.