The true measure of life is not length, but honesty.
All men [are] of one metal, but not in one mold.
A heat full of coldness, a sweet full of bitterness, a pain full of pleasantness, which maketh thoughts have eyes and hearts ears, bred by desire, nursed by delight, weaned by jealousy, kill'd by dissembling, buried by ingratitude, and this is love.
A clere conscience is a sure carde.
The finest edge is made with the blunt whetstone.
The broken bone, once set together, is stronger than ever.