Perfect happiness, by princes sought, Is not with birth born, nor exchequers bought.
As night the life-inclining stars best shows, So lives obscure the starriest souls disclose.
Promise is most given when the least is said.
I will neither yield to the song of the siren nor the voice of the hyena, the tears of the crocodile nor the howling of the wolf.
An ill weed grows apace.
Let no man value at a little price A virtuous woman's counsel; her winged spirit Is feathered often times with heavenly words, And, like her beauty, ravishing and pure.