The will is infinite and the execution confin'd, the desire is boundless and the act a slave to limit.
Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, till, by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.
Patch grief with proverbs.
Glory grows guilty of detested crimes.
Adversity makes strange bedfellows.
A beggar's book outworths a noble's blood.