Happy are they that hear their detractions, and can put them to mending.

And in some perfumes there is more delight than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know that music hath a far more pleasing sound.

Let me not live, after my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff of younger spirits.

Sir, he's a good dog, and a fair dog.

His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, and his countenance enforces homage. He is indeed a horse.

O, let him pass. He hates him That would upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer.

To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast!