My father's wit, and my mother's tongue, assist me!

Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts.

It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking.

Stars hide your fires; let not light see my black and deep desires: The eyes wink at the hand; yet let that be which the eye fears, when it is done, to see

Beware of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in, bear t that th' opposed may beware of thee.

Such thanks as fits a king's remembrance.

Her virtues, graced with external gifts, Do breed love's settled passions in my heart; And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide, So am I driven by breath of her renown Either to suffer shipwreck or arrive Where I may have fruition of her love.