I can express no kinder sign of love, than this kind kiss.

Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.

Better conquest never canst thou make than arm thy constant and thy nobler parts against giddy, loose suggestions.

This sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, this huge hill of flesh!

In nature there's no blemish but the mind. None can be called deformed but the unkind.

Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast.

A high hope for a low heaven: God grant us patience!