I love a ballad but even too well if it be doleful matter merrily set down, or a very pleasant thing indeed and sung lamentably.

Dissembling harlot, thou art false in all!

Is it not strange, that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies!

We cannot conceive of matter being formed of nothing, since things require a seed to start from... Therefore there is not anything which returns to nothing, but all things return dissolved into their elements.

If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.

Learning is but an adjunct to ourself, And where we are our learning likewise is.

Yield not thy neck To fortunes yoke, but let thy dauntless mind Still ride in triumph over all mischance.