Sometimes, less is more.
Instead of weeping when a tragedy occurs in a songbird's life, it sings away its grief. I believe we could well follow the pattern of our feathered friends.
Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.
Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.
Foul cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, but gold that's put to use more gold begets.
The iron tongue of Midnight hath told twelve lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time. I fear we shall outstep the coming morn as much as we this night over-watch'd.