“Ale, man, Ale's the stuff to drink,for fellows whom it hurts to think.”

“Could man be drunk for ever      With liquor, love, or fights,Lief should I rouse at morning      And lief lie down of nights.But men at whiles are sober      And think by fits and starts,And if they think, they fasten      Their hands upon their hearts.”

“If it chance your eye offends you,Pluck it out lad, and be sound:'Twill hurt, but here are salves to friend you,And many a balsam grows on ground.And if your hand or foot offend you,Cut it off, lad, and be whole;But play the man, stand up and end you,When your sickness is your soul.”

“The King with half the East at heel is marched from lands of morning; Their fighters drink the rivers up, their shafts benight the air.And he that stands will die for nought, and home there's no returning. The Spartans on the sea-wet rock sat down and combed their hair.”

“The tree of man was never quiet: Then 'twas the Roman, now 'tis I.”

“When I watch the living meet,And the moving pageant fileWarm and breathing through the streetWhere I lodge a little while,If the heats of hate and lustIn the house of flesh are strong,Let me mind the house of dustWhere my sojourn shall be long.In the nation that is notNothing stands that stood before;There revenges are forgot,And the hater hates no more;Lovers lying two and twoAsk not whom they sleep beside,And the bridegroom all night throughNever turns him to the bride.”

“Some men are more interesting than their books but my book is more interesting than its man.”