I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my harm.

It is silliness to live when to live is torment, and then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician.

Bounty, being free itself, thinks all others so.

All that glisters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold.

I have been studying how I may compare This prison where I live unto the world; And, for because the world is populous, And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out.

Your gentleness shall force More than your force move us to gentleness.

'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, but to support them after.