Good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.
For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings.
It is certain that either wise bearing or ignorant carriage is caught as men take diseases, one of another.
Friendly counsel cuts off many foes.
... And death unloads thee.
And it is very much lamented,... That you have no such mirrors as will turn Your hidden worthiness into your eye That you might see your shadow.