Virtue Is Chok'd With Foul Ambition

Time Is A Very Bankrupt And Owes More Than He's Worth To Season. Nay, He's A Thief Too: Have You Not Heard Men Say, That Time Comes Stealing On By Night And Day?

O Mischief, Thou Art Swift To Enter In The Thoughts Of Desperate Men!

Manhood Is Melted Into Courtesies, Valor Into Compliment, And Men Are Only Turned Into Tongue, And Trim Ones, Too.

Each Present Joy Or Sorrow Seems The Chief.

Are There No Stones In Heaven But What Serves For Thunder?