Die for adultery! No: The wren goes tot, and the small gilded fly does lecher in my sight

Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting

Commit the oldest sins the newest kind of ways

Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall

Love is a spirit all compact of fire

To be wise and love exceeds man's might

Love sought is good, but given unsought, is better

Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood

Wisely, and slow. They stumble that run fast

There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow