Truth is man's proper good, and the only immortal thing was given to our mortality to use.
Greatness of name, in the father, ofttimes helps not forth, but overwhelms the son: They stand too near one another. The shadow kills the growth.
Hell itself must yield to industry.
A good man should and must Sit rather down with loss than rise unjust.
All discourses but my own afflict me; they seem harsh, impertinent, and irksome
It strikes! one, two, Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch, Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest; Would thou could'st make the time to do so too; I'll wind thee up no more.