Words are easy, like the wind; Faithful friends are hard to find.
Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth
Enough no more; Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.
My crown is in my heart, not on my head; not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, nor to be seen: my crown is called content, a crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.
A knot you are of damned bloodsuckers.