“Time lost, as men may see, For nothing may recovered be.”

If love be good, from whence cometh my woe?

There’s no workman, whatsoever he be, That may both work well and hastily.

Every honest miller has a golden thumb.

Harde is his heart that loveth nought In May.

Abstinence is approved of God.

What is better than wisdom? Woman. And what is better than a good woman? Nothing.

If gold rust, what then will iron do? For if a priest be foul in whom we trust/ No wonder that a common man should rust.

With empty hands men may no hauks lure.

For in their hearts doth Nature stir them so Then people long on pilgrimage to go And palmers to be seeking foreign strands To distant shrines renowned in sundry lands.

The fields have eyes, and the woods have ears.

Men love newfangleness.

Many a true word is spoken in jest.

He who accepts his poverty unhurt I’d say is rich although he lacked a shirt. But truly poor are they who whine and fret and covet what they cannot hope to get.

In April the sweet showers fall And pierce the drought of March to the root, and all The veins are bathed in liquor of such power As brings about the engendering of the flower.

What’s said is said and goes upon its way Like it or not, repent it as you may.

Patience is a conquering virtue.

Aging is not “lost youth” but a new stage of opportunity and strength.

A wife should no more take her husband’s name than he should hers. My name is my identity and must not be lost.

The feminine mystique has succeeded in burying millions of American women alive.

If the world is a precipitation of human nature, so to speak, then the divine world is a sublimation of the same. Both occur in one act. No precipitation without sublimation. What goes lost there in agility, is won here.

Karate has helped me lots, otherwise I might have got lost in substance abuse or something like the things a lot of other people do.

All was taken away from you: white dresses, wings, even existence.

Voices are like fingerprints, from Cagney to Bogart. They never lost it. My voice is instrumental in categorizing me.

I wasn’t available to do the right things for my son. If not for the arts, my child would’ve been lost.