How ill white hairs become a fool and jester!

Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall.

Instead of weeping when a tragedy occurs in a songbird's life, it sings away its grief. I believe we could well follow the pattern of our feathered friends.

All lovers swear more performance than they are able, and yet reserve an ability that they never perform; vowing more than the perfection of ten, and discharging less than the tenth part of one.

We that are true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.

Shall I never see a bachelor of three score again?

In scorn of nature, art gave lifeless life.