"The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against fate; Death lays his icy hand on kings: Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade."

"The honour is overpaid, When he that did the act is commentator."

"Death calls ye to the crowd of common men."

"Devouring Famine, Plague, and War, Each able to undo mankind, Death's servile emissaries are; Nor to these alone confined, He hath at will More quaint and subtle ways to kill; A smile or kiss, as he will use the art, Shall have the cunning skill to break a heart."

"Kiss till the cow comes home."

"It would talk,— Lord! how it talked!"

"He went away with a flea in 's ear."

"What's one man's poison, signor, Is another's meat or drink."

"I find the medicine worse than the malady."

"Thou will scarce be a man before thy mother."

"Hit the nail on the head."

"There is a method in man's wickedness— It grows up by degrees."

"He shall have chariots easier than air, That I will have invented;... And thyself, That art the messenger, shalt ride before him On a horse cut out of an entire diamond. That shall be made to go with golden wheels, I know not how yet."

"Custom, that is before all law; Nature, that is above all art."

"Unless above himself he can Erect himself, how poor a thing is man!"

"He that of such a height hath built his mind, And rear'd the dwelling of his thoughts so strong, As neither fear nor hope can shake the frame Of his resolved powers; nor all the wind Of vanity or malice pierce to wrong His settled peace, or to disturb the same; What a fair seat hath he, from whence he may The boundless wastes and wilds of man survey? And with how free an eye doth he look down Upon these lower regions of turmoil? Where all the storms of passions mainly beat On flesh and blood: where honour, power, renown, Are only gay afflictions, golden toil; Where greatness stands upon as feeble feet, As frailty doth; and only great doth seem To little minds, who do it so esteem."

"For ever by Adversity are wrought The greatest Works of Admiration; And all the Fair Examples of Renown, Out of Distress and Misery are grown."

"And who (in time) knows whither we may vent The treasure of our tongue? To what strange shores This gain of our best glory shall be sent T' enrich unknowing nations with our stores? What worlds in the yet unformed Occident May come refin'd with th' accents that are ours?"

"This is the thing that I was born to do."

"And for the few that only lend their ear, That few is all the world."

"Sacred religion! mother of form and fear."

"O blessed letters that combine in one All ages past, and make one live with all, By you we do confer with who are gone, And the dead living unto counsel call: By you th'unborn shall have communion Of what we feel, and what doth us befall."

"The stars that have most glory have no rest."

"Devotion, mother of obedience."

"As that the walls worn thin, permit the mind To look out thorough, and his frailty find. 1"

"He hath nothing done that doth not all."

"The bounds once overgone that hold men in, They never stay; but on from bad to worse. Wrongs do not leave off there where they begin, But still beget new mischiefs in their course."

"Who reproves the lame must go upright."

"The thing possessed is not the thing it seems."

"Might, That makes a title where there is no right."

"When better choices are not to be had, We needs must take the seeming best of bad."

"Minions too great argue a King too weak."

"Shame leaves us by degrees."

"Jewels, orators of Love."

"Sweet, silent rhetoric of persuading eyes, Dumb eloquence, whose power doth move the blood More than the words or wisdom of the wise."

"But her will must be obeyed,"

"Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night, Brother to Death, in silent darkness born."

"Care-Charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night, Brother to Death, in silent darkness born, Relieve my languish, and restore the light; With dark forgetting of my care return. And let the day be time enough to mourn The shipwreck of my ill adventured youth"

"And sport, sweet maid, in season of these years, And learn to gather flowers before they wither"

"For women grieve to think they must be old."