The Brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.

You have too much respect upon the world; They lose it that do buy it with much care

How much better is it to weep at joy than to joy at weeping?

Pain pays the income of each precious thing.

Melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.

Make the upcoming hour overflow with joy, and let pleasure drown the brim.

For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy