Tears are the noble language of the eye.

Thus times do shift, each thing his turn does hold; New things succeed, as former things grow old.

But ne'er the rose without the thorn.

Know when to speak - for many times it brings danger, to give the best advice to kings.

Fain would I kiss my Julia's dainty leg, Which is as white and hairless as an egg.

To the Virgins, To Make much of Time Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles today, Tomorrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, The higher he’s a-getting, The sooner will his race be run, And nearer he is to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while you may, go marry; For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry.

It is the end that crowns us, not the fight.