Look how the world's poor people are amazed at apparitions, signs and prodigies!

I have no way and therefore want no eyes I stumbled when I saw. Full oft 'tis seen our means secure us, and our mere defects prove our commodities.

A little fire is quickly trodden out, Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench.

Mine eyes smell onions: I shall weep anon.

Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

My pride fell with my fortunes.

If there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it, Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!' The jaws of darkness do devour it up; So quick bright things come to confusion.