Great sorrows have no leisure to complain: Least ills vent forth, great griefs within remain. — William Goffe Copy Share Image
The sweetest cordial we receive at last, Is conscience of our virtuous actions past. — William Goffe Copy Share Image
My rage is not malicious; like a spark Of fire by steel inforced out of a flint It is no sooner kindled, but extinct. — William Goffe Copy Share Image
Great sorrows have no leisure to complain: Least ills vent forth, great griefs within remain. — William Goffe Copy Share Image
