“The griefs of private men are soon allayed, But not of kings.”

Why should you love him whom the world hates so? Because he love me more than all the world.

Nothing violent, oft have I heard tell, can be permanent.

It is a comfort to the miserable to have comrades in misfortune, but it is a poor comfort after all.

Religion hides many mischiefs from suspicion.

More childish valorous than manly wise.

Jigging veins of rhyming mother wits.

He must have a long spoon that eats with the devil.

Virtue is the fount whence honour springs.

Infinite riches in a little room.

Blood is the god of war’s rich livery.

Was this the face that launched a thousand ships, and burnt the topless towers of Ileum?

While money doesn’t buy love, it puts you in a great bargaining position.

Accurst be he that first invented war.

What feeds me destroys me.

Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?

Had I as many souls as there be stars, I’d give them all for Mephistopheles!