Love Is Like A Child, That Longs

One Fairer Than My Love? The All-seeing Sun Ne'er Saw Her Match Since First The World Begun.

Love Moderately; Long Love Doth So; Too Swift Arrives As Tardy As Too Slow.

The Lady Doth Protest Too Much, Methinks.

He Jests At Scars That Never Felt A Wound.

We Will All Laugh At Gilded Butterflies.