A faire woman is a paradise to the eye, a purgatorye to the purse, and a hell to the soule. - Elizabeth Grimston

There be foure good mothers have foure bad daughters: Trueth hath Hatred; Prosperity hath Pride; Security hath Perill; and Familiarity hath Contempt.

Crush the serpent in the head,
Break ill egs yer they be hatched.
Kill bad chickens in the tread,
Fledge[d] they hardly can be catched.
In the rising stifle ill,
Lest it grow against thy will.

Our best life is to die well: for living here we enjoy nothing: things past are dead and gone: things present are alwayes ending: things future alwayes beginning: while we live we die; and we leave dying, when we leave living.