I Swear Again, I Would

The Fortune Of Us That Are The Moon's Men Doth Ebb And Flow Like The Sea, Being Governed, As The Sea Is, By The Moon.

He That Wants Money, Means, And Content Is Without Three Good Friends.

A Book? O, Rare One, Be Not, As Is Our Fangled World, A Garment Nobler Than That It Covers.

Read O'er This And After, This, And Then To Breakfast With What Appetite You Have.

He Jests At Scars That Never Felt A Wound.