'Tis said of love that it sometimes goes, sometimes flies; runs with one, walks gravely with another; turns a third into ice, and sets a fourth in a flame: it wounds one, another it kills: like lightning it begins and ends in the same moment: it makes that fort yield at night which it besieged but in the morning; for there is no force able to resist it.

You are a devil at everything, and there is no kind of thing in the 'versal world but what you can turn your hand into.

All the vices, Sancho, bring some kind of pleasure with them; but envy brings nothing but irritation, bitterness, and rage.

No fathers or mothers think their own children ugly.

Get out of harms way.

Fly not, cowards and vile beings, for a single knight attacks you.

He had a face like a blessing.