Mirth Cannot Move A Soul In Agony.

The Spirit Of A Youth That Means To Be Of Note, Begins Betimes.

If All The Year Were Playing Holidays; To Sport Would Be As Tedious As To Work.

[s]ince Brevity Is The Soul Of Wit, And Tediousness The Limbs And Outward Flourishes, I Will Be Brief.

Heaven Give You Many, Many Merry Days.

I Do Know When The Blood Burns, How Prodigal The Soul Lends The Tongue Vows.