Tis but a base, ignoble mind That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.
And since you know you cannot see yourself, so well as by reflection, I, your glass, will modestly discover to yourself, that of yourself which you yet know not of.
Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain, Which, with pain purchas'd, doth inherit pain.
Suit the action to the word, the word to the action.
Appetite, a universal wolf.
Me, poor man, my library Was dukedom large enough.