He is well paid that is well satisfied.

And it is very much lamented,... That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye That you might see your shadow.

A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent--sweet, not lasting; The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.

Vanity keeps persons in favor with themselves who are out of favor with all others.

So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all.

What ugly sights of death within mine eyes!

Hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig.