Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.
Heaven take my soul, and England keep my bones!
Sweet are the uses of adversity which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head.
Plain and not honest is too harsh a style.
My brain more busy than the labouring spider Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies.
Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.