Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it love-in-idleness.
William ShakespeareTo beguile the time, look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue.
William ShakespeareThere's rosemary and rue. These keep Seeming and savor all the winter long. Grace and remembrance be to you.
William Shakespeare