There is nothing more becoming any wise man, than to make choice of friends, for by them thou shalt be judged what thou art: let them therefore be wise and virtuous, and none of those that follow thee for gain; but make election rather of thy betters, than thy inferiors.

The world is itself but a larger prison, out of which some are daily selected for execution.

But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust.

The first draught serveth for health, the second for pleasure, the third for shame, the fourth for madness.

Our souls, piercing through the impurity of flesh, behold the highest heaven, and thence bring knowledge to contemplate the ever-during, glory and termless joy.

Even such isTime, which takes in trust Our youth, our joys, and all we have, And pays us but with age and dust, Who in the dark and silent grave When we have wandered all our ways Shuts up the story of our days, And from which earth, and grave, and dust The Lord shall raise me up, I trust.

Covetous ambition, thinking all too little which presently it hath, supposeth itself to stand in need of that which it hath not.