Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was love.

He that wrongs his friend, wrongs himself more.

Here at the quiet limit of the world.

There twice a day the Severn fills; The salt sea-water passes by, And hushes half the babbling Wye, And makes a silence in the hills.

That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.

Men at most differ as Heaven and Earth, but women, worst and best, as Heaven and Hell.

Better not to be at all Than not to be noble.