Who Wooed In Haste, And

The Web Of Our Life Is Of A Mingled Yarn, Good And Ill Together.

They Have A Plentiful Lack Of Wit.

There's Many A Man Hath More Hair Than Wit.

We Make Ourselves Fools To Disport Ourselves And Spend Our Flatteries To Drink Those Men Upon Whose Age We Void It Up Again With Poisonous Spite And Envy.

Love Laughs At Locksmiths.