There is nothing but roguery to be found in villainous men.
If fortune torments me, hope contents me.
A little more than kin, and less than kind.
Beauty itself doth of itself persuade the eyes of men without an orator.
Downy sleep, death's counterfeit.
Tis a blushing shame-faced spirit that mutinies in a man's bosom. It fills a man full of obstacles. It made me once restore a purse of gold that (by chance) I found. It beggars any man that keeps it.