There's daggers in men's smiles.
There is an old poor man,. . . . Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger.
The attempt and not the deed confounds us.
Better a witty fool than a foolish wit.
Modest doubt is called the beacon of the wise.
The Brightness of her cheek would shame those stars as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing, and think it were not night.