Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever,- One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never.

I am not merry, but I do beguile the thing I am by seeming otherwise.

There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distill it out.

Ambition, the soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, than gain which darkens him.

What's brave, what's noble, let's do it after the Roman fashion.

Oft expectation fails, and most oft there where most it promises; and oft it hits where hope is coldest, and despair most fits.

Time travels in divers paces with divers persons.