This fellow pecks up wit, as pigeons peas; And utters it again when God doth please: He is wit's pedler; and retails his wares.
A woman would run through fire and water for such a kind heart.
The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, is often left unloved.
There's place and means for every man alive.
A merry heart goes all the way, - A sad one tires inan hour.
Within the hollow crown That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court.