To go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes

Virtue is bold, and goodness never fearful.

Ay, but to die and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstrution and to rot; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice; To be imprison'd in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendant world.

A breath thou art, Servile to all the skyey influences.

It is the stars, The stars above us, govern our conditions.

To England will I steal, and there I'll steal.

Slanders, sir, for the satirical rogue says here that old men have grey beards, that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes purging think amber and plum-tree gum, and that they have a plentiful lack of wit, together with most weak hams.