There was a star danced, and under that was I born.
What's done can't be undone.
Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.
I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in.
Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low.
Wise men never sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms.