And then he drew a dial from his poke, And looking with lack-lustre eye, Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: Thus we may see', Quoth he, 'how the world wags: 'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, And after one hour more 'twill be eleven; And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe, And then from hour to hour we rot and rot.

Is it not strange, that sheep's guts should hale souls out of men's bodies!

How long a time lies in one little word?

I thought my heart had been wounded with the claws of a lion.

'Tis pride that pulls the country down.

Man and wife, being two, are one in love.

What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, That he should weep for her?