If there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it, Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!' The jaws of darkness do devour it up; So quick bright things come to confusion.

My chastity's the jewel of our house, bequeathed down from many ancestors.

Summer's lease hath all too short a date.

The hand of little employment hath the daintier sense.

I'll privily away; I love the people, But do not like to stage me to their eyes; Though it do well, I do not relish well Their loud applause and aves vehement, Nor do I think the man of safe discretion That does not affect it.

Children wish fathers looked but with their eyes; fathers that children with their judgment looked; and either may be wrong.

Desperate times breed desperate measures