So sweet was ne'er so fatal. I must weep. But they are creul tears. This sorrow's heavenly; it strikes where it doth love.
All that follow their noses are led by their eyes but blind men; and there's not a nose among twenty but can smell him that's stinking.
You have too much respect upon the world; They lose it that do buy it with much care.
Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward to what they were before.
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty.
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive, till famine cling thee.