Love yourself; and in that love not unconsidered leave your honor.
Words are easy, like the wind; Faithful friends are hard to find.
An envious fever of pale and bloodless emulation.
Every man has a bag hanging before him, in which he puts his neighbour's faults, and another behind him in which he stows his own.
one pain is cured by another. catch some new infection in your eye and the poison of the old one would die.
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving.