Olivia: What's a drunken man like, fool? Feste: Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman: one draught above heat makes him a fool; the second mads him; and a third drowns him.

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

I'll note you in my book of memory.

For honesty coupled to beauty, is to have honey a sauce to sugar.

Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.

Your "if" is the only peacemaker; much virtue in "if.

Full of wise saws and modern instances.