Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.

Let us not burden our remembrances with a heaviness that's gone.

Gold were as good as twenty orators.

The soul of this man is his clothes.

A man can die but once.

Never shame to hear what you have nobly done

Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises.