Right joyous are we to behold your face, Most worthy brother England; fairly met!

There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow.

He that commends me to mine own content Commends me to the thing I cannot get. I to the world am like a drop of water That in the ocean seeks another drop, Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: So I, to find a mother and a brother, In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself.

There is a kind of character in thy life, That to the observer doth thy history, fully unfold.

When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.

Omittance is no quittance.

Use every man after his desert, and who should scape whipping?