A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart.
I can no other answer make, but, thanks, and thanks.
Thou frothy tickle-brained hedge-pig!
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.
We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.
The moon shines bright. In such a night as this. When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees and they did make no noise, in such a night.