Were I laid on Greenland's Coast, And in my Arms embrac'd my Lass; Warm amidst eternal Frost, Too soon the Half Year's Night would pass.

A woman's friendship ever ends in love.

To shoot at crows is powder flung away.

Music might tame and civilize wild beasts, but 'tis evident it never yet could tame and civilize musicians.

You can only be called a hypocrite if you judge others first.

Who friendship with a knave hath made, Is judged a partner in the trade.

In love we are all fools alike.