To weep is to make less the depth of grief.

Go to you bosom: Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.

Like madness, is the glory of this life.

Time is the old justice that examines all such offenders, and let Time try.

The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream And greedily devour the treacherous bait.

Dreams, indeed, are ambition; for the very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. And I hold ambition of so airy and light a quality that it is but a shadow's shadow.

O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, leave not the mansion so long tenantless; lest, growing ruinous, the building fall and leave no memory of what it was!