It is a sin to be a mocker.
If fortune torments me, hope contents me.
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.
Hot lavender, mints, savory, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun, and with him rise weeping.
He capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May.
What soilders whey-face? The English for so please you. Take thy face hence.