Love Moderately; Long Love Doth So; Too

The Bitter Past, More Welcome Is The Sweet.

O Thou That Dost Inhabit In My Breast, Leave Not The Mansion So Long Tenantless; Lest, Growing Ruinous, The Building Fall And Leave No Memory Of What It Was!

A Good Man's Fortune May Grow Out At Heels.

Assure Thee, If I Do Vow A Friendship, I'll Perform It To The Last Article." --othello, Act Iii, Scene Iii

Look On Beauty, And You Shall See 'tis Purchased By The Weight; Which Therein Works A Miracle In Nature, Making Them Lightest That Wear Most Of It: So Are Those Crisped Snaky Golden Locks Which Make Such Wanton Gambols With The Wind Upon Supposed Fairness, Often Known To Be The Dowry Of A Second Head, The Skull That Bred Them In The Sepulchre.