Tis our fast intent To shake all cares and business from our age, Conferring them on younger strengths, while we Unburdened crawl toward death.

Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are for the Dark.

Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief?

Friendship's full of dregs.

Lord Bacon told Sir Edward Coke when he was boasting, The less you speak of your greatness, the more shall I think of it.

And worse I may be yet: the worst is not So long as we can say 'This is the worst.

How easy it is for the proper-false in woman's waxen hearts to set their forms!