Though justice be thy plea consider this, that in the course of justice none of us should see salvation.

for my grief's so great That no supporter but the huge firm earth Can hold it up: here I and sorrows sit; Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it. (Constance, from King John, Act III, scene 1)

I am but mad north-north-west. When the wind is southerly, I know a hawk from a handsaw.

Love moderately; long love doth so; too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.

My soul is in the sky.

You see me here, you gods, a poor old man, As full of grief as age; wretched in both.

Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age have left me naked to mine enemies.