What we have we prize not to the worth whiles we enjoy it, but being lacked and lost, why, then we rack the value, then we find the virtue that possession would not show us whiles it was ours.
We have seen better days.
That you were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once lost, may be ten times found: by being ever kept, it is ever lost. ‘Tis too cold a companion: away with ‘t!
Joy, being altogether wanting, it doth remember me the more of sorrow.
I was adored once too.
His tongue is now a stringless instrument.
Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.