Extremity Is The Trier Of Spirits.

Fie, Fie Upon Her! There's Language In Her Eye, Her Cheek, Her Lip, Nay, Her Foot Speaks; Her Wanton Spirits Look Out At Every Joint And Motive Of Her Body.

Having Nothing, Nothing Can He Lose.

That Which Ordinary Men Are Fit For, I Am Qualified In. And The Best Of Me Is Diligence.

What Soilders Whey-face? The English For So Please You. Take Thy Face Hence.

The Will Is Deaf And Hears No Heedful Friends.