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.
A Rose is sweeter in the budde than full blowne.
The soft droppes of rain perce the hard marble.
Where the mind is past hope, the heart is past shame.
To give reason for fancy were to weigh the fire, and measure the wind.
In arguing of the shadow, we forgo the substance.