For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds;Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

Like the lily That once was mistress of the field and flourished, I'll hang my head and perish.

Cytherea, How bravely thou becom'st thy bed, fresh lily, And whiter than the sheets!

The sweetest two words are "next time." The sourest word is "if."

Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste

A surfeit of the sweetest things the deepest loathing of the stomach brings