Physicians are like kings- They brook no contradiction.
All things do help the unhappy man to fall.
Heaven fashioned us of nothing; and we strive to bring ourselves to nothing.
That friend a great man's ruin strongly checks, who rails into his belief all his defects.
Lust carries her sharp whip At her own girdle.
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.