For any man to match above his rank is but to sell his liberty.

Patience, the beggar's virtue, shall find no harbor here.

To doubt is worse than to have lost; And to despair is but to antedate those miseries that must fall on us.

Death hath a thousand doors to let out life.

Revenge, that thirsty dropsy of our souls, makes us covet that which hurts us most.

But married once, a man is stak'd or pown'd, and cannot graze beyond his own hedge.

A willing mind makes a hard journey easy.