There is a time in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.
People’s good deeds we write in water. The evil deeds are etched in brass.
To be generous, guiltless, and of a free disposition is to take those things for bird-bolts that you deem cannon-bullets.
As I love the name of honour more than I fear death.
Diseases desperate grown By desperate appliances are relieved, Or not at all.
O, she's warm! If this be magic, let it be an art Lawful as eating.