Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come.

Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's Day, All in the morn betime, And I a maid at your window, To be your valentine.

But yet, I say, if imputation and strong circumstances, which lead directly to the door of truth, will give you satisfaction, you may have it.

That man that hath a tongue, I say is no man, if with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

I have drunk and seen the spider.

Absence from those we love is self from self - a deadly banishment.

The proverb is something musty.