Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere.
There are many events in the womb of time which will be delivered.
Lend less than you owe.
Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
Never durst poet touch a pen to write Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sighs.
If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me.