What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.

On the bat’s back I do fly After summer merrily.

Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud.

The undeserver may sleep when the man of action is called on.

Friendship is constant in all other things Save in the office and affairs of love. Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues. Let every eye negotiate for itself, And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.

One good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.

I have not slept one wink.