In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility.
Death rock me asleep.
Oh why rebuke you him that loves you so? / Lay breath so bitter on your bitter foe.
I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an almsman's gown, My figured goblets for a dish of wood, My scepter for a palmer's walking staff My subjects for a pair of carved saints and my large kingdom for a little grave.
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
Men prize the thing ungained more than it is.