Miracles are ceased; and therefore we must needs admit the means, how things are perfected.
The soul of this man is his clothes.
Hopeless and helpless doth Egeon wend, But to procrastinate his liveless end.
Wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.
Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling.
A rarer spirit never Did steer humanity; but you gods will give us Some faults to make us men.