Is not old wine wholesomest, old pippins toothsomest, old wood burn brightest, old linen wash whitest? Old soldiers, sweethearts, are surest, and old lovers are soundest.

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.

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

Woman to man Is either a God or a wolfe.

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

Is not old wine wholesomest, old pippins toothsomest, old wood burn brightest, old linen wash whitest? Old soldiers, sweethearts, are surest, and old lovers are soundest.

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