If I for my opinion bleed, opinion shall be surgeon to my hurt, and keep me on the side where still I am.

For thou hast given me in this beauteous face A world of earthly blessings to my soul, If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.

O God, O God, how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!

Love is too young to know what conscience is.

What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts.

England is safe, if true within itself.

You are thought here to the most senseless and fit man for the job.