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Whatsoever is in the heart of the sober man, is in the mouth of the drunkard.

John Lyly

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John Lyly
Died: 1606
Died: November 18
Novelist
Playwright
Politician
Writer
Kent
England
John Lilly
John Lylie
John Lyly
Mouth
Mouths
Wine
Heart
Men
Drunkard
Drunkards
Whatsoever
Sober

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When adversities flow, then love ebbs but friendship standeth stiffly in storms.
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Time draweth wrinkles in a fair face, but addeth fresh colors to a fast friend, which neither heat, nor cold, nor misery, nor place, nor destiny, can alter or diminish
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Do you think that any one can move the heart but He that made it?
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In arguing of the shadow, we forgo the substance.
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A comely olde man as busie as a bee.
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I thank you for nothing, because I understand nothing.
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If all the earth were paper white / And all the sea were ink / 'Twere not enough for me to write / As my poor heart doth think.
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As the best wine doth make the sharpest vinegar, so the deepest love turns to the deadliest hate.
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There can no great smoke arise, but there must be some fire.
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The broken bone, once set together, is stronger than ever.
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The rattling thunderbolt hath but his clap, the lightning but his flash, and as they both come in a moment, so do they both end in a minute.
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He that comes in print because he would be known, is like the fool that comes into the market because he would be seen.
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Though women have small force to overcome men by reason yet have they good fortune to undermine them by policy.
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When parents put gold into the hands of youth, when they should put a rod under their girdle--when instead of awe they make them past grace, and leave them rich executors of goods, and poor executors of godliness, then it is no marvel that the son being left rich by his father's will, becomes reckless by his own will.
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Thou art an heyre to fayre lying, that is nothing, if thou be disinherited of learning, for better were it to thee to inherite righteousnesse then riches, and far more seemly were if for thee to haue thy Studie full of bookes, then thy pursse full of mony.
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A heat full of coldness, a sweet full of bitterness, a pain full of pleasantness, which maketh thoughts have eyes and hearts ears, bred by desire, nursed by delight, weaned by jealousy, kill'd by dissembling, buried by ingratitude, and this is love.
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Where the streame runneth smoothest, the water is deepest.
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A merry companion is as good as a wagon.
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The tongue, the ambassador of the heart.
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To love and to live well is wished of many, but incident to few.
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