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

Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age have left me naked to mine enemies.

Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.

The summer's flower is to the summer sweet Though to itself it only live and die

Many can brook the weather that love not the wind.

You Jig, you amble, and you lisp.

The quality of nothing hath not such need to hide itself