Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, That sees into the bottom of my grief?

We came into the world like brother and brother, And now let's go hand in hand, not one before another.

If thou art rich, thou art poor; for, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, thou bearest thy heavy riches but a journey, and death unloads thee.

Thrust your head into the public street, to gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces.

Now, by the world, it is a lusty wench; I love her ten times more than e'er I did: O, how I long to have some chat with her!

To go to bed after midnight is to go to bed betimes

Let life be short, else shame will be too long.