Are you grown an atheist? Will you turn your body, Which is the goodly palace of the soul, To the soul's slaughter-house? Oh, the curse' d devil, Which doth present us with all other sins Thrice-candied o'er.

Ambition, madam, is a great man's madness.

Though lust do masque in ne'er so strange disguise she's oft found witty, but is never wise.

Were there no heaven nor hell I should be honest.

Eagles commonly fly alone. They are crows, daws, and starlings that flock together.

I have long served virtue, And never ta'en wages of her.

All the damnable degrees Of drinking have you staggered through.