Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.

Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.

Thou whoreson zed! Thou unnecessary letter! My lord, if you will give me leave, I will tread this unbolted villain into mortar, and daub the wall of a jakes with him. *all cheer for Shakespearean insults*

And to the English court assemble now, From every region, apes of idleness!

Lovers and madmen have such seething brains Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend More than cool reason ever comprehends.

Of chastity, the ornaments are chaste.

Alas, their love may be call'd appetite. No motion of the liver, but the palate