Misery Loves Company.

A Multitude Of Words Doth Rather Obscure Than Illustrate, They Being A Burden To The Memory, And The First Apt To Be Forgotten, Before We Come To The Last. So That He That Uses Many Words For The Explaining Of Any Subject, Doth, Like The Cuttle-fish, Hide Himself, For The Most Part, In His Own Ink.

To Those We Love Best We Say The Least

Guilt Is Always Jealous

If Wishes Were Horses, Beggars Might Ride.

I Love Thee Like Puddings; If Thou Wert Pie I'd Eat Thee.