Man makes a death which Nature never made. And feels a thousand deaths in fearing one.

What is revenge but courage to call in our honor's debts, and wisdom to convert others' self-love into our own protection?

When men of infamy to grandeur soar, They light a torch to show their shame the more.

Fame is the shade of immortality, And in itself a shadow. Soon as caught, Contemn'd; it shrinks to nothing in the grasp.

Poor in abundance, famish'd at a feast.

I've known my lady (for she loves a tune) For fevers take an opera in June: And, though perhaps you'll think the practice bold, A midnight park is sov'reign for a cold.

Affliction is a good man's shining time.