Fortune, thou hadst no deity, if men Had wisdom.
Ambition makes more trusty slaves than need
Your highest female grace is silence.
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.
Nothing is more short-lived than pride.
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.