The Wounds Invisible That Love's Keen Arrows

So Weary With Disasters, Tugg'd With Fortune, That I Would Set My Life On Any Chance, To Mend, Or Be Rid On't.

If Thou Art Rich, Thou Art Poor; For, Like An Ass, Whose Back With Ingots Bows, Thou Bearest Thy Heavy Riches But A Journey, And Death Unloads Thee.

Virtue Is Bold, And Goodness Never Fearful.

Words Are Easy, Like The Wind; Faithful Friends Are Hard To Find.

To Take Arms Against A Sea Of Troubles.