All discourses but my own afflict me; they seem harsh, impertinent, and irksome
I'll give anything for a good copy now, be it true or false, so it be news.
God wisheth none should wreck on a strange shelf: To him man's dearer than to himself.
And where she went, the flowers took thickest root, As she had sow'd them with her odorous foot.
Soul of the age! The applause! delight! The wonder of our stage!
I have discovered that a famed familiarity in great ones is a note of certain usurpation on the less; for great and popular men feign themselves to be servants to others to make those slaves to them.