It strikes! one, two, Three, four, five, six. Enough, enough, dear watch, Thy pulse hath beat enough. Now sleep and rest; Would thou could'st make the time to do so too; I'll wind thee up no more.

How ready is heaven to those that pray!

Fortune, thou hadst no deity, if men Had wisdom.

If you succeed not, cast not away the quills yet, nor scratch the wainscot, beat not the poor desk, but bring all to the forge and file again; turn it new.

It holds for good polity ever, to have that outwardly in vilest estimation, which inwardly is most dear to us.

A new disease? I know not, new or old, but it may well be called poor mortals plague for, like a pestilence, it doth infect the houses of the brain till not a thought, or motion, in the mind, be free from the black poison of suspect.

Success produces confidence; confidence relaxes industry, and negligence ruins the reputation which accuracy had raised.