I am, out of the ladies' company, like a fish out of the water

The haste of a fool is the slowest thing in the world.

Every man loves what he is good at.

Love quickly is pall'd, Tho' with labour 'tis gain'd; Wine never does cloy Tho' with ease 'tis obtain'd. We sing while you sigh, We laugh while you weep;

And wit's the noblest frailty of the mind.

The scene was changed. It was a bark that slowly held its way, And o'er its lee the coast of France in the light of evening lay; And on its deck a lady sat, who gazed with tearful eyes Upon the fast receding hills that dim and distant rise.

So All is diff’rent, and yet All is One.