He that hath the steerage of my course,Direct my sail.

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.

Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall.

Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.

Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.

I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.

This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven.

They do not love, that do not show their love.