Methought I was enamour'd of an ass.
He that dies this year is quit for the next.
Death-counterfeiting sleep.
They do not abuse the king that flatter him. For flattery is the bellows blows up sin; The thing the which is flattered, but a spark To which that blast gives heat and stronger glowing.
This is a way to kill a wife with kindness.
There was a star danced, and under that was I born.