By Heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate; And with my hand I seal my true heart's love
Full of wise saws and modern instances.
A good heart 'is worth gold.
God send everyone their heart's desire!
One half of me is yours, the other half is yours, Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours.
Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.