Crack'd in pieces by malignant Death.

Things may serve long, but not serve ever.

Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will, much more a man who hath any honesty in him.

And in some perfumes there is more delight than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know that music hath a far more pleasing sound.

Blest are those Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger To sound what stop she please.

O, let my books be then the eloquence and dumb presages of my speaking breast.

the time of life is short; To spend that shortness basely were too long.