It is good walking when one hath his horse in hand.
The broken bone, once set together, is stronger than ever.
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.
Where the countenance is fair, there need no colors.
Rather fast then surfette, rather starue then striue to exceede.
The rattling thunderbolt hath but his clap, the lightning but his flash, and as they both come in a moment, so do they both end in a minute.