Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts.
She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I lov'd her that she did pity them
Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear
Let each man do his best.
Are you up to your destiny?
Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache; but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change places with his officer; for look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go.