And it is very much lamented,... That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye That you might see your shadow.
When the sea was calm all ships alike showed mastership in floating.
Suspicion shall be all stuck full of eyes.
Silence is the perfectest herault of joy. I were but little happy if I could say how much.
How much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping?
It hurts not the tongue to give fair words.