Though music oft hath such a charm to make bad good, and good provoke to harm.

A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty.

You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal: except my life, except my life, except my life.

Were all the letters sun, I could not see one.

Now the melancholy of God protect thee, and the tailor make thy doublet of changable taffata, for thy mind is a very opal. I would have men of such constancy put to sea, that their business might be everything, and their intent everywhere, for that's it, that always makes a good voyage of nothing.

What we determine we often break. Purpose is but the slave to memory.

These cardinals trifle with me; I abhor; This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome.