There's Rosemary, That's For Remembrance.

They Do Not Abuse The King That Flatter Him. For Flattery Is The Bellows Blows Up Sin; The Thing The Which Is Flattered, But A Spark To Which That Blast Gives Heat And Stronger Glowing.

Fools Are Not Mad Folks.

I'll Follow Thee And Make A Heaven Of Hell, To Die Upon The Hand I Love So Well

Dreams Are The Children Of Idled Minds.

If Music Be The Food Of Love, Play On.