Things without all remedy should be without regard: what's done is done.

If they love they know not why, they hate upon no better ground, they hate upon no better a ground

Nothing 'gainst Times scythe can make defence.

The band that seems to tie their friendship together will be the very strangler of their amity.

Yield not thy neck To fortunes yoke, but let thy dauntless mind Still ride in triumph over all mischance.

Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

All that glitters is not gold.