The king is but a man, as I am; the violet smells to him as it doth to me; the element shows to him as it doth to me; all his senses have but human conditions; his ceremonies laid by, in his nakedness he appears but a man; and though his affections are higher mounted than ours, yet, when they stoop, they stoop with the like wing.

Hardness ever of hardness is mother.

Every true man's apparel fits your thief.

I bear a charmed life.

A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent--sweet, not lasting; The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.

I have touched the highest point of all my greatness.

But she makes hungry Where she most satisfies.