You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.
Ay me! for aught that ever I could read, could ever hear by tale or history, the course of true love never did run smooth.
Though authority be a stubborn bear, yet he is oft let by the nose with gold.
Talkers are no good doers.
Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.
There is a time in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.