Leave us to our free election.
When holy and devout religious men are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence; so sweet is zealous contemplation.
If her breath were as terrible as her terminations, there were no living near her, she would infect to the north star!
Travelers never did lie, though fools at home condemn them.
At Christmas, I no more desire a rose.
Let them obey that knows not how to rule.