Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, And say there is no sin but to be rich; And being rich, my virtue then shall be To say there is no vice but beggary

A king of infinite space

Travelers never did lie, though fools at home condemn them.

Let every man be master of his time.

Yea from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records.

Misery makes sport to mock itself.

Farewell, my sister, fare thee well. The elements be kind to thee, and make Thy spirits all of comfort: fare thee well.