Wisdom cries out in the streets, and no man regards it.
What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.
They have been grand-jurymen since before Noah was a sailor
Your face is a book, where men may read strange matters.
He that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache
She is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.