To think but nobly of my grandmother: Good wombs have borne bad sons.

I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my harm.

Blind is his love, and best befits the dark.

Men are April when they woo, December when they wed.

Love is a spirit all compact of fire.

While we lie tumbling in the hay.

Have more than thou showest, Speak less than thou knowest, Lend less than thou owest.