Love will not be spurred to what it loathes
The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger.
What: is the jay more precious than the lark because his feathers are more beautiful?
I'll be supposed upon a book, his face is the worst thing about him.
The bird that hath been limed in a bush, with trembling wings misdoubteth every bush.
Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss.