Laughter almost ever cometh of things most disproportioned to ourselves and nature: delight hath a joy in it either permanent or present; laughter hath only a scornful tickling.

A popular license is indeed the many-headed tyrant.

Take thou of me, sweet pillowes, sweetest bed; A chamber deafe of noise, and blind of light, A rosie garland and a weary hed.

Ambition, like love, can abide no lingering; and ever urgeth on his own successes, hating nothing but what may stop them.

As well the soldier dieth who standeth still as he that gives the bravest onset.

Who will ever give counsel, if the counsel be judged by the event, and if it be not found wise, shall therefore be thought wicked?

He travels safe and not unpleasantly who is guarded by poverty and guided by love.