Why, this hath not a finger's dignity.

Give thy thoughts no tongue.

I hate ingratitude more in a man than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, or any taint of vice whose strong corruption inhabits our frail blood".

From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain and nourish all the world.

Time travels at different speeds for different people. I can tell you who time strolls for, who it trots for, who it gallops for, and who it stops cold for.

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

A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.