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.
I'll give anything for a good copy now, be it true or false, so it be news.
Our whole life is like a play.
The man that is once hated, both his good and his evil deeds oppress him.
O, for an engine, to keep back all clocks, or make the sun forget his motion!
Affliction teacheth a wicked person sometime to pray; prosperity never.