To a child all weather is cold.
Silkes and Satins put out the fire in the chimney.
Take heede of the viniger of sweet wine.
Craft against craft makes no living.
Thou that hast given so much to me give me one thing more, a grateful heart: not thankful when it pleaseth me, as if Thy blessings had spare days, but such a heart whose pulse may be Thy praise.
O what a sight were Man, if his attires Did alter with his minde; And like a dolphins skinne, his clothes combin'd With his desires!