And he goes through life, his mouth open, and his mind closed.
Love does not see with the eyes, but with the soul.
Oh, that way madness lies; let me shun that.
How far that little candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
Though it make the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve.
Say, thou art mine; and ever, My love, as it begins, shall so persevere