My joy is death- Death, at whose name I oft have been afeard, Because I wish'd this world's eternity.
When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.
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.
If you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.
Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.
The nature of bad news affects the teller.