Men at sometime are the masters of their fate.

The venom clamours of a jealous woman poison more deadly than a mad dog's tooth.

So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground.

When holy and devout religious men are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence; so sweet is zealous contemplation.

Hast any philosophy in thee shepherd? .• • • • . . . He that wants money, means and content, is without three good friends; that the property of rain is to wet and fire to burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and a great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may complain of good breeding or comes of a very dull kindred.

So foul and fair a day I have not seen.

Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return to plague the inventor.