Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere.

A true repentance shuns the evil itself, more than the external suffering or the shame.

There was a star danced, and under that was I born.

A man in all the world's new fashion planted, That hath a mint of phrases in his brain.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come.

Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell. Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, Yet Grace must still look so.

See what a ready tongue suspicion hath!