His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; his love sincere, his thoughts immaculate; his tears pure messengers sent from his heart; his heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth

Silence is the perfect herald of joy.

What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? Or sells eternity to get a toy? For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown, Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down?

No doubt they rose up early to observe the rite of May; and, hearing our intent, Came here in grace of our solemnity.

To be generous, guiltless, and of a free disposition is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets.

Why, who cries out on pride that can therein tax any private party? Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea till the weary very means do ebb?

Our purses shall be proud, our garments poor; for 'tis the mind that makes the body rich