Keep time! How sour sweet music is when time is broke and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men's lives. I wasted time and now doth time waste me.

Ingratitude is monstrous.

Time and the hour run through the roughest day.

Every man has his fault, and honesty is his.

Dreams are the children of idled minds.

She is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.

For what I will, I will, and there an end.