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.
Rather fast then surfette, rather starue then striue to exceede.
A clere conscience is a sure carde.
A comely olde man as busie as a bee.
Do you think that any one can move the heart but He that made it?
Time draweth wrinkles in a fair face, but addeth fresh colors to a fast friend, which neither heat, nor cold, nor misery, nor place, nor destiny, can alter or diminish