To know and feel all this and not have the words to express it makes a human a grave of his own thoughts.
Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
I am a little world made cunningly.
Men have conceived a twofold use of sleep; it is a refreshing of the body in this life, and a preparing of the soul for the next.
Good is not good, unless A thousand it possess, But doth waste with greediness.
Nothing but man of all envenomed things, doth work upon itself, with inborn stings.