Who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down?
God send everyone their heart's desire!
The violence of either grief or joy, their own enactures with themselves destroy.
Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men?
O! she doth teach the torches to burn bright It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. - Romeo -
A grandma's name is little less in love than is the doting title of a mother.