As it is a great point of art, when our matter requires it, to enlarge and veer out all sail, so to take it in and contract it is of no less praise when the argument doth ask it.

All concord's born of contraries.

Tis the common disease of all your musicians that they know no mean, to be entreated, either to begin or end.

Minds that are great and free, should not on fortune pause: 'Tis crown enough to virtue still, her own applause.

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.

Guilt's a terrible thing.

Affliction teacheth a wicked person sometime to pray; prosperity never.