O Mistress mine, where are you roaming? O, stay and hear; your true love's coming, That can sing both high and low: Trip no further, pretty sweeting; Journeys end in lovers meeting, Every wise man's son doth know. What is love? 'Tis not hereafter; Present mirth hath present laughter; What's to come is still unsure: In delay there lies not plenty; Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty, Youth's a stuff will not endure.

Travelers never did lie, though fools at home condemn them.

Heaven would that she these gifts should have, and I to live and die her slave.

I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange with-out heresy.

Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.

Falsehood falsehood cures

Children wish fathers looked but with their eyes; fathers that children with their judgment looked; and either may be wrong.