The dullness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits.

Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother: I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth.

All things are ready, if our mind be so.

Is she not passing fair?

Drown thyself? Drown cats and blind puppies.

If thou remeber'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not lov'd

Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up tine, supply it with one gender of herbs, or distract it with many, either to have it sterile with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills.