'Tis one thing to be tempted, another thing to fall.

Should the poor be flattered? No; let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, and crook the pregnant hinges of the knee where thrift may follow fawning.

I'll be supposed upon a book, his face is the worst thing about him.

For trust not him that hath once broken faith

Keep time! How sour sweet music is when time is broke and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men's lives. I wasted time and now doth time waste me.

We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.

Not proud you have, but thankful that you have. Proud can I never be of what I hate, but thankful even for hate that is meant love.