For any man to match above his rank is but to sell his liberty.
Tis the only discipline we are born for; all studies else are but as circular lines, and death the center where they all must meet.
Petitions, not sweetened with gold, are but unsavory and oft refused; or, if received, are pocketed, not read.
He that doth public good for multitudes, finds few are truly grateful
What pity 'tis, one that can speak so well, Should in his actions be so ill!
He is not valiant that dares lie; but he that boldly bears calamity.