Now we are all fallen, youth from their fear, And age from that which bred it, good example.

A good dog deserves a good bone.

Folly often goes beyond her bounds, but impudence knows none.

Though I am young, and cannot tell Either what Death or Love is well, Yet I have heard they both bear darts, And both do aim at human hearts. And then again, I have been told Love wounds with heat, as Death with cold; So that I fear they do but bring Extremes to touch, and mean one thing. As in a ruin we it call One thing to be blown up, or fall; Or to our end like way may have By a flash of lightning, or a wave; So Love’s inflamèd shaft or brand May kill as soon as Death’s cold hand; Except Love’s fires the virtue have To fight the frost out of the grave.

There is no doctrine will do good where nature is wanting.

The dignity of truth is lost with much protesting.

That old bald cheater, Time.