We must not make a scarecrow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror.
There's beggary in love that can be reckoned
How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
What is aught but as 'tis valued?
I'll say she looks as clear as morning roses newly washed with dew.
What's done is done. The joy is in the doing.