Without knowledge, life is no more than the shadow of death

It's an odd job, making decent people laugh.

Cover that bosom that I must not see: souls are wounded by such things.

There is no protection against slander.

Then worms shall try That long preserved virginity, And your quaint honor turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave's a fine and private place But none, I think, do there embrace.

I find medicine is the best of all trades because whether you do any good or not you still. Get your money.

It is a folly second to none; to try to improve the world.