Winter, which, being full of care, makes summer's welcome thrice more wish'd, more rare.

There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures.

By Heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate; And with my hand I seal my true heart's love

I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange with-out heresy.

Don't trust the person who has broken faith once.

Beauty's a doubtful good, a glass, a flower, Lost, faded, broken, dead within an hour; And beauty, blemish'd once, for ever's lost, In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.

Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him? - Lady Macbeth