To love women and never enjoy them, is as much to love wine and never taste it.
Many strokes overthrow the tallest oaks.
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
A Rose is sweeter in the budde than full blowne.
Where the countenance is fair, there need no colors.
A clere conscience is a sure carde.