To wilful men, the injuries that they themselves procure must be their schoolmasters.
Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.
Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep.
Security is the chief enemy of mortals.
I had rather live with cheese and garlic in a windmill.
And will he not come again? And will he not come again? No, no, he is dead. Go to thy deathbed. He never will come again.