Many dream not to find, neither deserve, and yet are steeped in favors.

I would there were no age between sixteen and three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the rest; for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting

But no perfection is so absolute, That some impurity doth not pollute.

Fie, fie, how frantically I square my talk!

Profit is a blessing, if it's not stolen.

How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?

Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I ha' lost my reputation, I ha' lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial!