Put money in thy purse.

Comfort's in heaven, and we are on the earth

My love is thine to teach; teach it but how, And thou shalt see how apt it is to learn. Any hard lesson that may do thee good.

Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy.

Manhood is melted into courtesies, valor into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones, too.

An envious fever of pale and bloodless emulation.

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray you, love, remember: and there is pansies, that's for thoughts. There's fennel for you, and columbines: — there 's rue for you; and here's some for me: — we may call it, herb of grace o'Sundays: — you may wear your rue with a difference. — There's a daisy: — I would give you some violets; but they withered all, when my father died: — They say, he made a good end.