Certain books seem to be written, not that we might learn from them, but in order that we might see how much the author knows.
Time is my estate: to Time I'm heir.
Yet here I stand poor fool what more, not one wit wiser than before.
Method will teach you to win time.
Upon the creatures we have made, we are, ourselves, at last, dependent.
Beware of her fair hair, for she excels All women in the magic of her locks; And when she winds them round a young man's neck, She will not ever set him free again.