Tis ill talking of halters in the house of a man that was hanged.

Sleep is the best cure for waking troubles.

Happy the man to whom heaven has given a morsel of bread without laying him under the obligation of thanking any other for it than heaven itself.

The eyes those silent tongues of love.

Jests that give pains are no jests.

You are a devil at everything, and there is no kind of thing in the 'versal world but what you can turn your hand into.

Pray, look better, sir... those things yonder are no giants, but windmills.