So true a fool is love that in your will,Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.

A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.

I would I could not think it: that thought is bounty's foe;Being free itself, it thinks all others so.

My comfort is, that old age, that ill layer-up of beauty, can do no more spoil upon my face

I am ill at these numbers

For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak - With most miraculous organ