For whose sake, henceforth, all his vows be such, As what he loves may never like too much.
Ambition, like a torrent, never looks back.
Give me a look, give me a face, That makes simplicity a grace Robes loosely flowing, hair as free Such sweet neglect more taketh me Than all the adulteries of art: They strike mine eyes, but not my heart.
He that is respectless in his courses oft sells his reputation at cheap market.
Blueness doth express trueness.
O, for an engine, to keep back all clocks, or make the sun forget his motion!