Ambition, the soldier's virtue.

Too much to know is to know naught but fame.

The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.

How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

I count myself in nothing else so happy as in a soul remembering my good Friends

I find my zenith doth depend upon A most auspicious star, whose influence If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop.

Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.