To beguile the time, look like the time.

The tempter or the tempted, who sins most? Ha! Not she: nor doth she tempt: but it is I That, lying by the violet in the sun, Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt with virtuous season.

Men must learn now with pity to dispense; For policy sits above conscience.

How much salt water thrown away in waste/ To season love, that of it doth not taste.

Talkers are no good doers.

This is the third time; I hope good luck lies in odd numbers. Away; go. They say there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death.

I had rather be a kitten and cry mew Than one of these same metre ballet-mongers.