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C.N. Douglas, comp.  Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical.  1917.
        None but the lark so shrill and clear;
Now at heaven’s gate she claps her wings,
The morn not waking till she sings.
  A heat full of coldness, a sweet full of bitterness, a pain full of pleasantness, which maketh thoughts have eyes, and hearts, and ears; bred by desire, nursed by delight, weaned by jealousy, killed by dissembling, buried by ingratitude; and this is love.  2
  As busie as a bee.  3
  Gentlemen use books as gentlewomen handle their flowers, who in the morning stick them im their heads, and at night strawe them at their heeles.  4
  He that commeth in print because he woulde be knowen, is like the foole that commeth into the Market because he woulde be seen.  5
  Let thy attyre bee comely, but not costly.  6
  Since your eyes are so sharpe, that you cannot onely looke through a milstone, but cleane through the minde.  7
  The soft droppes of raine perce the hard marble, many strokes overthrow the tallest oke.  8
  The sun shineth upon the dunghill and is not corrupted.  9
  The tongue, the ambassador of the heart.  10
  There can no great smoke arise, but there must be some fire.  11
  Where the streame runneth smoothest, the water is deepest.  12
  Whilst that the childe is young, let him be instructed in vertue and lytterature.  13

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