He that loseth his honesty hath nothing else to lose.
The sun shineth upon the dunghill, and is not corrupted.
Love knoweth no laws.
Thou art an heyre to fayre lying, that is nothing, if thou be disinherited of learning, for better were it to thee to inherite righteousnesse then riches, and far more seemly were if for thee to haue thy Studie full of bookes, then thy pursse full of mony.
Where the countenance is fair, there need no colors.
Maydens, be they never so foolyshe, yet beeing fayre they are commonly fortunate.