“Who lets slip fortune, her shall never find: Occasion once past by, is bald behind.”

Nay, in death’s hand, the grape-stone proves As strong as thunder is in Jove’s.

May I a small house and large garden have; And a few friends, And many books, both true.

His faith, perhaps, in some nice tenets might Be wrong; his life, I’m sure, was in the right.

Who that has reason, and his smell, Would not among roses and jasmin dwell?

In fields d’or or d’argent; but, if heraldry were guided by reason, a plough in a field arable would be the most noble and ancient arms.”

What a brave privilege is it to be free from all contentions, from all envying or being envied, from receiving or paying all kinds of ceremonies!

Water and air He for the Tenor chose, Earth made the Base, the Treble Fame arose,

Coy Nature, (which remain’d, though aged grown, A beauteous virgin still, enjoy’d by none, Nor seen unveil’d by anyone),

There is some help for all the defects of fortune; for, if a man cannot attain to the length of his wishes, he may have his remedy by cutting of them shorter.

What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?

I would not fear nor wish my fate, but boldly say each night, to-morrow let my sun his beams display, or in clouds hide them; I have lived today.

This only grant me, that my means may lie, too low for envy, for contempt to high.

Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie and teach that truth is truest poesy.

The monster London laugh at me.

Begin, be bold, and venture to be wise, He who defers this work from day to day, Does on a river’s bank expecting stay

Sleep is a god too proud to wait in palaces, and yet so humble too as not to scorn the meanest country cottages.

What am I supposed to do if I go bald? Get a wig? Fat, goofy, gay, wig.

I was an only child. I lost both my parents. By the time I was twenty I was bald. I’m homosexual.

Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are bald. Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are carrotty. Why do I not kiss you, Philaenis? you are one-eyed. He who kisses you, Philaenis, sins against nature.

Bald as the bare mountain tops are bald, with a baldness full of grandeur.

I know I been bald but I just wanted to remind y’all I’m still that bitch.

I dragged my pain into the darkness, I carried it into the light – No matter where I choose to take it, This pain refuses to subside. I washed my sins off in the ocean, I prayed all my badness away, Whichever God I choose to worship, I cannot make my soul be saved.

She was getting fat and he was getting bald. As promised, they were growing old together.

A man can be short and dumpy and getting bald but if he has fire, women will like him.