A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm

World, world, O world! But that thy strange mutations make us hate thee/ Life would not yield to age.

A plague of sighing and grief! It blows a man up like a bladder.

The ides of March are come. Soothsayer: Ay, Caesar; but not gone.

He that loves to be flattered is worthy o' the flatterer.

Discharge my followers; let them hence away, From Richard's night to Bolingbrooke's fair day.

Beauty within itself should not be wasted.