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That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat
Of habit's devil.
That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat
Of habit's devil.
For there's no motion
That tends to vice in man, but I affirm
It is the woman's read more
For there's no motion
That tends to vice in man, but I affirm
It is the woman's part.
We may outrun,
By violent swiftness, that which we run at,
And lose by over-running.
We may outrun,
By violent swiftness, that which we run at,
And lose by over-running.
He that knowes nothing, doubts nothing.
He that knowes nothing, doubts nothing.
I'll have a fling.
I'll have a fling.
A woman conceales what shee knowes not.
A woman conceales what shee knowes not.
Fine dressing is a foule house swept before the doores.
Fine dressing is a foule house swept before the doores.
Tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than their years.
Tyrants' fears
Decrease not, but grow faster than their years.