Boldness be my friend.

There's nothing in this world can make me joy: Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man; And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.

The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart-see, they bark at me.

So will I turn her virtue into pitch, And out of her own goodness make the net That shall enmesh them all.

Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me

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

Alas, their love may be call'd appetite. No motion of the liver, but the palate