Make ducks and drakes with shillings.
Man is a torch borne in the wind; a dream But of a shadow, summed with all his substance.
I will neither yield to the song of the siren nor the voice of the hyena, the tears of the crocodile nor the howling of the wolf.
Enough 's as good as a feast.
I pray, what flowers are these? The pansy this, O, that's for lover's thoughts.
So our lives In acts exemplary, not only win Ourselves good names, but doth to others give Matter for virtuous deeds, by which we live.