Thy wish was father, Harry, to that thought.

The sense of death is most in apprehension, And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great As when a giant dies.

Be not too tame neither, but let your own Discretion be your tutor; suit the action to the word, the word to the action.

What: is the jay more precious than the lark because his feathers are more beautiful?

Here's that which is too weak to be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire.

Absence doth sharpen love, presence strengthens it; the one brings fuel, the other blows it till it burns clear.

Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men?