Gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light.
Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no fin.
I will keep where there is wit stirring, and leave the faction of fools.
Why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules, but beware instinct. The lion will not touch the true prince. Instinct is a great matter. I was a coward on instinct.
Upon thy cheek I lay this zealous kiss, as seal to the indenture of my love.
Many strokes, though with a little axe, hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak.