“One woman reads another’s character Without the tedious trouble of deciphering”

True gladness doth not always speak; joy, bred and born but in the tongue, is weak.

Mischiefs feed / Like beasts, till they be fat, and then they bleed.

Words borrowed of Antiquity do lend a kind of Majesty to style, and are not without their delight sometimes.

Poets are far rarer birds than kings.

O, for an engine, to keep back all clocks, or make the sun forget his motion!

Money never made any man rich, but his mind. He that can order himself to the law of nature, is not only without the sense, but the fear of poverty.

That I might live alone once with my gold! O, ’tis a sweet companion! kind and true: A man may trust it when his father cheats him, Brother, or friend, or wife. O wondrous pelf! That which makes all men false, is true itself.

Well, as he brews, so shall he drink.

What excellent fools religion makes of men.

Still may syllables jar with time, Still may reason war with rhyme, Resting never!

Popular men, They must create strange monsters, and then quell them, To make their arts seem something.

Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I’ll not look for wine.

Good men but see death, the wicked taste it.

Now we are all fallen, youth from their fear, And age from that which bred it, good example.

All discourses but my own afflict me; they seem harsh, impertinent, and irksome

A good man should and must Sit rather down with loss than rise unjust.