As many arrows, loosed several ways, come to one mark...so many a thousand actions, once afoot, end in one purpose.

Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes: Some falls are means the happier to arise

The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream And greedily devour the treacherous bait.

Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you.

It is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accidents and bolts up change.

Violent fires soon burn out themselves, small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; he tires betimes that spurs too fast.

O call not me to justify the wrong, That thy unkindness lays upon my heart, Wound me not with thine eye but with thy tongue, Use power with power, and slay me not by art.