Time tries the troth in everything.
Seek home for rest, for home is best.
For the first fourteen years for a rod they do while for the next as a pearl in the world they do shine. For the next trim beauty beginneth to swerve. For the next matrons or drudges they serve. For the next doth crave a staff for a stay. For the next a bier to fetch them away.
What a greater crime. Than loss of time.
A fool and his money be soon at debate
Sweet April showers do spring May flowers.