These times of woe afford no time to woo.
If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me.
A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us; His dew falls everywhere.
The soul of this man is his clothes.
If you have tears, prepare to shed them now.
It is the mind that makes the body rich; and as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, so honor peereth in the meanest habit.