The soft droppes of rain perce the hard marble.
The sun shineth upon the dunghill, and is not corrupted.
For experience teacheth me that straight trees have crooked roots.
It is a blind goose that cometh to the fox's sermon.
The night has a thousand eyes.
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