For this relief, much thanks

Time travels at different speeds for different people. I can tell you who time strolls for, who it trots for, who it gallops for, and who it stops cold for.

Assume a virtue, if you have it not. That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat; Of habits devil, is angel yet in this.

My crown is in my heart, not on my head.

Tis ever common That men are merriest when they are from home.

Good reasons must of force give place to better.

My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.