Truly thou art damned, like an ill-roasted egg, all on one side.
Nothing in his life became him like leaving it.
What is light, if Sylvia be not seen? What is joy if Sylvia be not by?
Though those that are betray'd Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor stands in worse case of woe
Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.
Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.