I hold it cowardice To rest mistrustful where a noble heart Hath pawned an open hand in sign of love.

When griping grief the heart doth wound, and doleful dumps the mind opresses, then music, with her silver sound, with speedy help doth lend redress.

I have a soul of lead So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.

Drink, sir, is a great provoker of three things . . . nose-painting, sleep, and urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance.

Coward dogs most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten runs far before them.

There is a devilish mercy in the judge, if you'll implore it, that will free your life, but fetter you till death.

There's nothing in this world can make me joy.