To mourn a mischief that is past and gone Is the next way to draw new mischief on.

Have patience, and endure

To beguile the time, look like the time. Bear welcome in your eye, your hand, your tongue.

The readiness is all.

They have a plentiful lack of wit.

Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.

My joy is death- Death, at whose name I oft have been afeard, Because I wish'd this world's eternity.