This fell sergeant, Death, Is strict in his arrest.
Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying!
Upon thy cheek I lay this zealous kiss, as seal to the indenture of my love.
The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree.
With caution judge of probability. Things deemed unlikely, e'en impossible, experience oft hath proved to be true.
All the world's a stage ... and you better have a zoning variance or it's coming down.