We See Which Way The

Your Cause Of Sorrow Must Not Be Measured By His Worth, For Then It Hath No End.

He That Commends Me To Mine Own Content Commends Me To The Thing I Cannot Get. I To The World Am Like A Drop Of Water That In The Ocean Seeks Another Drop, Who, Falling There To Find His Fellow Forth, Unseen, Inquisitive, Confounds Himself: So I, To Find A Mother And A Brother, In Quest Of Them, Unhappy, Lose Myself.

If Thou Engrossest All The Griefs Are Thine, Thou Robb'st Me Of A Moiety.

A Horse, A Horse, My Kingdom For A Horse!

Silence Is The Perfectest Herault Of Joy. I Were But Little Happy If I Could Say How Much.