Some grief shows much of love, But much of grief shows still some want of wit.

An overflow of good converts to bad.

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

Love is blind, it stops lovers seeing the silly things they do.

Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?

Gold were as good as twenty orators.

If money go before, all ways do lie open.