Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, till, by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.

O, call back yesterday, bid time return

Die for adultery! No: The wren goes to't, and the small gilded fly does lecher in my sight

Have more than thou showest, Speak less than thou knowest, Lend less than thou owest.

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

I was a coward on instinct.

There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.