I am a man more sinned against than sinning

Done to death by slanderous tongue

Time's the king of men; he's both their parent, and he is their grave, and gives them what he will, not what they crave.

Thou art the Mars of malcontents.

...and then, in dreaming, / The clouds methought would open and show riches / Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked / I cried to dream again.

Report of fashions in proud Italy Whose manners still our tardy-apish nation Limps after in base imitation

I find my zenith doth depend upon A most auspicious star, whose influence If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop.