It Is Held That Valor

Be Not Afeard; The Isle Is Full Of Noises, Sounds, And Sweet Airs, That Give Delight And Hurt Not. Sometimes A Thousand Twangling Instruments Will Hum About Mine Ears; And Sometime Voices, That, If I Then Had Waked After Long Sleep, Will Make Me Sleep Again: And Then, In Dreaming, The Clouds Methought Would Open, And Show Riches Ready To Drop Upon Me; That, When I Waked, I Cried To Dream Again.

Suspicion Always Haunts The Guilty Mind.

What A Fool Honesty Is.

Pleasure And Revenge Have Ears More Deaf Than Adders To The Voice Of Any True Decision.

Affliction May One Day Smile Again; And Till Then, Sit Thee Down, Sorrow!.