I have very poor and unhappy brains for drinking.

I am afeard there are few die well that die in battle, for how can they charitably dispose of anything when blood is their argument?

To be honest, as this world goes, is to be one man picked out of ten thousand.

Good old grandsire ... we shall be joyful of thy company.

The hand that hath made you fair hath made you good.

Greatness knows itself.

Too early seen unknown, and known too late!