That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th' account of hours to crave, Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure.

If there is a good will, there is great way.

None can cure their harms by wailing them.

The time is out of joint : O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right!

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

Praise us as we are tasted, allow us as we prove.

When we our betters see bearing our woes, We scarcely think our miseries our foes.