If there be devils, would I were a devil, To live and burn in everlasting fire, So I might have your company in hell, But to torment you with my bitter tongue!

A smile cures the wounding of a frown.

Love adds a precious seeing to the eye.

Rumor is a pipe Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures.

I would give all of my fame for a pot of ale and safety.

The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, which still we thank as love.

Gentle and low, an excellent thing in woman.