Vaine is the vaunt, and victory unjust, that more to mighty hands, then rightfull cause doth trust.

Foul jealousy! that turnest love divine to joyless dread, and makest the loving heart with hateful thoughts to languish and to pine.

A circle cannot fill a triangle, so neither can the whole world, if it were to be compassed, the heart of man; a man may as easily fill a chest with grace as the heart with gold. The air fills not the body, neither doth money the covetous mind of man.

This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state; for misery doth bravest minds abate.

In one consort there sat cruel revenge and rancorous despite, disloyal treason and heart-burning hate.

Men, when their actions succeed not as they would, are always ready to impute the blame thereof to heaven, so as to excuse their own follies.

Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.