Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.

Winter's not gone yet, if the wild geese fly that way.

The voice of parents is the voice of gods, for to their children they are heaven's lieutenants.

Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief.

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.

Fie, thou dishonest Satan! I call thee by the most modest terms; for I am one of those gentle ones that will use the devil himself with courtesy: sayest thou that house is dark?

By-and-by is easily said.