The charge is prepared; the lawyers are met; The judges all ranged (a terrible show!) I go, undismay'd. For death is a debt, A debt on demand. So take what I owe.

You can only be called a hypocrite if you judge others first.

To shoot at crows is powder flung away.

If with me you'd fondly stray Over the hills and far away.

Envy's a sharper spur than pay: No author ever spar'd a brother; Wits are gamecocks to one another.

My lodging is on the cold ground, And hard, very hard, is my fare, But that which grieves me more Is the coldness of my dear.

I cannot raise my worth too high; Of what vast consequence am I! "Not of the importance you suppose," Replies a Flea upon his nose; "Be humble, learn thyself to scan; Know, pride was never made for man.