Let not the world see fear and sad distrust govern the motion of a kingly eye.

Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, have yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltiness of time.

When you do dance, I wish you a wave o' the sea, that you might ever do nothing but that.

What we determine we often break. Purpose is but the slave to memory.

Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning, and the noontide night.

Look like the innocent flower, But be the serpent under it.

Thy head is as full of quarrels as an egg is full of meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as an egg for quarrelling.