Now the melancholy of God protect thee, and the tailor make thy doublet of changable taffata, for thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be everything, and their intent everywhere, for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of nothing.

Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast.

If I be waspish, best beware my sting.

To business that we love we rise betime, and go to't with delight.

O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!

Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honour's at the stake.

Who can control his fate?