It is that fery person for all the orld, as just as you will desire; and seven hundred pounds of moneys, and gold, and silver, is her grandsire upon his death's-bed-Got deliver to a joyful resurrections!

She's good, being gone.

Love laughs at locksmiths.

And do as adversaries do in law, strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends.

You have too much respect upon the world; They lose it that do buy it with much care

O me, you juggler, you canker-blossom, you thief of love!

A scar nobly got is a good livery of honor.