Kiss till the cow comes home.
Nothing's so dainty sweet as lovely melancholy.
The greatest attribute of Heaven is mercy.
Who doubting tyranny, and fainting under Fortune's false lottery, desperately run To death, for dread of death; that soul's most stout, That, bearing all mischance, dares last it out.
It is a word that's quickly spoken, which being unrestrained, a heart is broken
Grace comes often clad in the dusky robe of desolation.