Spread yourself upon his bosom publicly, whose heart you would eat in private.
Tis the common disease of all your musicians that they know no mean, to be entreated, either to begin or end.
All the wise world is little else, in nature, But parasites or subparasites.
There is no greater hell than to be a prisoner of fear.
I know no disease of the soul but ignorance, a pernicious evil, the darkener of man's life, the disturber of his reason, and common confounder of truth.
Our whole life is like a play.