Woe to that land that's governed by a child.

Bell, book and candle shall not drive me back, When gold and silver becks me to come on.

There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

How easy it is for the proper-false in woman's waxen hearts to set their forms!

Wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it.

There live not three good men unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and grows old.

Summer's lease hath all too short a date.