The Robbed That Smiles, Steals Something From

Oh What Fools We Mortals Are.

I Can No Longer Live By Thinking.

I May Neither Choose Who I Would, Nor Refuse Who I Dislike; So Is The Will Of A Living Daughter Curbed By The Will Of A Dead Father.

No Visor Does Become Black Villainy So Well As Soft And Tender Flattery.

Your Date Is Better In Your Pie And Your Porridge Than In Your Cheek.