Life... is a paradise to what we know of death.
I were better to be eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to nothing with perpetual motion.
Love`s reason`s without reason
Speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice.
Men must learn now with pity to dispense; For policy sits above conscience.
What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts.