Time is the king of men.
Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death and death will have his day.
If it be a sin to covet honor, I am the most offending soul.
O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple.
There's small choice in rotten apples.
Lord, I could not endure a husband with a beard on his face! I had rather lie in the woolen.