But O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes.

Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.

Full of wise saws and modern instances.

If one good deed in all my life I did, I do repent it from my very soul.

Stars hide your fires; let not light see my black and deep desires: The eyes wink at the hand; yet let that be which the eye fears, when it is done, to see

They are in the very wrath of love, and they will go together. Clubs cannot part them

He was not so much brain as earwax