As many arrows, loosed several ways, come to one mark...so many a thousand actions, once afoot, end in one purpose.

O! she doth teach the torches to burn bright It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. - Romeo -

I am indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger I recover them.

Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death the memory be green.

If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottage princes' palaces.

Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.

Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.