I May Not Be A

The Stone Often Recoils On The Head Of The Thrower.

It Is Good To Jest, But Not To Make A Trade Of Jesting.

I Regret The Unhappiness Of Princes Who Are Slaves To Forms And Fettered By Caution.

I Plucke Up The Goodlie Greene Herbes Of Sentences By Pruning, Eat Them By Reading, Chawe Them By Musing, And Laie Them Up At Length In The Hie Seate Of Memorie By Gathering Them Together; That I, Having Tasted The Sweetenes, L May The Lesse Perceave The Bitternes Of This Miserable Life.

I Thank God I Am Endued With Such Qualities That If I Were Turned Out Of The Realm In My Petticoat I Were Able To Live In Any Place In Christendom.