We know what we are, but know not what we may be.
'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed
All is well ended, if the suit be won.
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
If thou remeber'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not lov'd
We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.