Come, Lady, die to live.
Like one who draws the model of a house beyond his power to build it who, half through, gives o'er, and leaves his part-created cost a naked subject to the weeping clouds.
Such as we are made of, such we be.
It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking.
It is not vain glory for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber.
Let me not live, after my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff of younger spirits.