Until I know this sure uncertainty, I'll entertain the offered fallacy.

We suffer a lot the few things we lack and we enjoy too little the many things we have.

I would there were no age between sixteen and three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the rest; for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting

How wayward is this foolish love that, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse and presently, all humble, kiss the rod.

Art made tongue-tied by authority.

All love's pleasure shall not match its woe.

And it is very much lamented,... That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye That you might see your shadow.