My only love sprung from my only hate! Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me, That I must love a loathed enemy.

Parting is such sweet sorrow

Men must learn now with pity to dispense; For policy sits above conscience.

A knavish speech sleeps in a fool's ear.

For by his face straight shall you know his heart.

The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.

Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.