I thought my heart had been wounded with the claws of a lion.
That you were once unkind befriends me now, And for that sorrow, which I then did feel, Needs must I under my transgression bow, Unless my nerves were brass or hammered steel.
Summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Love laughs at locksmiths.
If there is a good will, there is great way.
Flout 'em, and scout 'em; and scout 'em, and flout 'em; / Thought is free.