Heaven would that she these gifts should have, and I to live and die her slave.
He is winding the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.
Grief makes one hour ten.
Faith, there hath been many great men that have flattered the people who ne'er loved them.
I do know when the blood burns, how prodigal the soul lends the tongue vows.
All things that are, are with more spirit chased than enjoyed.