Many dream not to find, neither deserve, and yet are steeped in favors.
Sweet are the uses of adversity which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head.
Tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil.
The patient must minister to himself
You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die.
O God, I could be bound in a nutshell, and count myself a king of infinite space – were it not that I have bad dreams.