O time, thou must untangle this, not I. It is too hard a knot for me t'untie.
Your fair discourse hath been as sugar, Making the hard way sweet and delectable.
Use mercy to them all.
You that are old consider not the capacities of us that are young.
Women may fall when there's no strength in men.
Here did she fall a tear. Here in this place I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb-of-grace. Rue even for ruth here shortly shall be seen In the remembrance of a weeping queen.
A good wit will make use of anything. I will turn diseases to commodity.
By med'cine life may be prolong'd, yet death Will seize the doctor too.
Better be with the dead, Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, Than on the torture of the mind to lie In restless ecstasy.
All the courses of my life do show I am not in the roll of common men.