Yet but three come one more. Two of both kinds make up four. Ere she comes curst and sad. Cupid is a knavish lad. Thus to make poor females mad.

There's beggary in love that can be reckoned

And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.

Temptation: the fiend at my elbow.

Crabbed age and youth cannot live together: Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care.

When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.

Wolves and bears, they say, casting their savagery aside, have done like offices of pity.