Some Kinds Of Baseness Are Nobly Undergone.

Macbeth To Witches: What Are These So Wither'd And So Wild In Their Attire, That Look Not Like Th' Inhabitants O' Th' Earth, And Yet Are On 't?

A Gentleman That Loves To Hear Himself Talk, Will Speak More In A Minute Than He Will Stand To In A Month.

There Is No Such Sport As Sport By Sport O'erthrown.

Best Men Oft Are Moulded Out Of Faults.

For Night's Swift Dragons Cut The Clouds Full Fast, And Yonder Shines Aurora's Harbinger; At Whose Approach Ghosts Wandring Here And There Troop Home To Church-yards.... For Fear Lest Day Should Look Their Shames Upon, They Willfully Exile Themselves From Light, And Must For Aye Consort With Black Brow'd Night.