Marry, sir, they praise me and make an ass of me. Now my foes tell me plainly I am an ass; so that by my foes, sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself, any by my friends I am abused; so that, conclusions to be as kisses, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives, why then, the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes.

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.

My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.

More can I bear than you dare execute.

Travelers must be content.

These violent delights have violent ends And in their triump die, like fire and powder Which, as they kiss, consume

He that will have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the grinding.