Why should you think that I should woo in scorn? Scorn and derision never come in tears: Look, when I vow, I weep; and vows so born, In their nativity all truth appears. How can these things in me seem scorn to you, Bearing the badge of faith, to prove them true?

Wishers were ever fools.

Some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltness of time.

When beggars die, there are no comets seen; the heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.

He that has a house to put's head in has a good head-piece.

Who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down?

O, had I but followed the arts!