Of all wild beasts preserve me from a tyrant; and of all tame a flatterer.
Hang sorrow, care'll kill a cat.
I feel my griefs too, and there scarce is ground Upon my flesh t'inflict another wound. Yet dare I not complain, or wish for death With holy Paul; lest it be thought the breath Of discontent; or that these prayers be For weariness of life, not love of thee.
Your highest female grace is silence.
Weigh the meaning and look not at the words.
Fortune, thou hadst no deity, if men Had wisdom.