Like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks.
By my troth, I care not; a man can die but once; we owe God a death and let it go which way it will he that dies this year is quit for the next
Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying!
The trust I have is in mine innocence, and therefore am I bold and resolute.
Nothing in his life became him like leaving it.
Be not too tame neither, but let your own Discretion be your tutor; suit the action to the word, the word to the action.