For mine own part, it was Greek to me.

I have lived long enough. My way of life is to fall into the sere, the yellow leaf, and that which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends I must not look to have.

O! for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention.

He hath a heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks his tongue speaks.

Suffer love; a good epithet! I do suffer love, indeed, for I love thee against my will.

Why should we rise because 'tis light? Did we lie down because t'was night?

We are oft to blame in this, - 'tis too much proved, - that with devotion's visage, and pios action we do sugar o'er the devil himself.