Great strokes make not sweete musick.
Great trees are good for nothing but shade.
Had you the world on your Chesse-bord, you could not fill all to your mind.
Happie is hee that chastens himselfe.
Happier are the hands compast with yron, then a heart with thoughts.
Harken to reason or shee will bee heard.
Hast comes not alone.
He cannot be vertuous that is not rigorous.
He complaines wrongfully on the sea that twice suffers shipwrack.
He hath great neede of a foole, that plaies the foole himselfe.
He is a foole that makes a wedge of his fist.
He is not poore that hath little, but he that desireth much.
He puls with a long rope, that waits for anothers death.
He quits his place well, that leaves his friend there.
The Jewes spend at Easter, the Moors at marriages, the Christians in sutes.
Least at thine own things laugh.
Lord! who hath praise enough?
Let thy mind’s sweetness have its operation upon thy body, clothes, and habitation.
The dark grave, which knows all secrets, can alone reclaim the fatal doubt once cast on a woman’s name.
In cloths cheap handsomeness, doth bear the bell.