This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.

There's no better sign of a brave mind than a hard hand.

Good name in man and woman is the immediate jewel of their souls.

I stalk about her door, like a strange soul upon the Stygian banks staying for waftage.

As good luck would have it, comes in one Mistress Page, gives intelligence of Ford's approach, and in her invention, and Ford's wife's distraction, they conveyed me into a buck-basket.

They say miracles are past.

But to my mind, though I am native here, And to the manner born, it is a custom, More honored in the breach than the observance.