Drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things . . . nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance.

Where the bee sucks, there suck I In the cow-slip's bell i lie There I couch when owls do cry

For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.

And how his audit stands who knows, save Heaven?

Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.

Men's evil manners live in brass; their virtues we write in water.

I wish you all the joy that you can wish.