Things done well and with a care, exempt themselves from fear.

A man cannot make him laugh; but that's no marvel; he drinks no wine.... If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle I would teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.

I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.

Never durst poet touch a pen to write Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sighs.

Verily, I swear, it is better to be lowly born, and range with humble livers in content, than to be perked up in a glistering grief, and wear a golden sorrow.

As merry as the day is long.

Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.