In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility.

Take all the swift advantage of the hours.

Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more.

O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple.

Be merry; you have cause, so have we all, of joy; for our escape is much beyond our loss . . . . then wisely weigh our sorrow with our comfort.

I, measuring his affections by my own, Which then most sought where most might not be found, Being one too many by my weary self, Pursued my humor not pursuing his, And gladly shunned who gladly fled from me.

Though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod.