And oftentimes excusing of a fault doth make the fault the worse by the excuse.

I am that merry wanderer of the night.

I see a man's life is a tedious one.

Who seeks, and will not take, when once 'tis offer'd, Shall never find it more.

Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze. I will not budge for no man's pleasure.

The sense of death is most in apprehension.

That's a valiant flea that dares eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.