But whate'er I am, nor I nor any man that but man is, With nothing shall be pleased 'til he be eased With being nothing.

Glory grows guilty of detested crimes.

O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, leave not the mansion so long tenantless; lest, growing ruinous, the building fall and leave no memory of what it was!

Security is the chief enemy of mortals.

Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday humor, and like enough to consent.

Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; the worst is death and death will have his day.

Of all knowledge the wise and good seek most to know themselves.