What is past is prologue.

When beggars die, there are no comets seen; the heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes.

Every man has a bag hanging before him, in which he puts his neighbour's faults, and another behind him in which he stows his own.

O, what a world of vile ill-favored faults, looks handsome in three hundred pounds a year!

If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.

If your mind dislike anything obey it

Maids want nothing but husbands, and when they have them, they want everything.