“Nay, could their numbers countervail the stars,Or ever-drizzling drops of April showers,Or wither'd leaves that autumn shaketh down,Yet would the Soldan by his conquering powerSo scatter and consume them in his rage, That not a man should live to rue their fall.”

“If I be cruel and grow tyrannous,Now let them thank themselves, and rue too late.”

“Heaven, envious of our joys, is waxen pale; And when we whisper, then the stars fall down To be partakers of our honey talk.(Dido, Queen of Carthage 4.4.52-54)”

“From jygging vaines of riming mother wits,And such conceits as clownage keepes in pay,Weele leade you to the stately tent of War:Where you shall heare the Scythian Tamburlaine,Threatning the world with high astounding tearmsAnd scourging kingdoms with his conquering sword.View but his picture in this tragicke glasse,And then applaud his fortunes if you please.”

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

“In summers heate and mid-time of the dayTo rest my limbes upon a bed I lay,One window shut, the other open stood,Which gave such light as twinkles in a wood,Like twilight glimpse at setting of the Sunne,Or night being past, and yet not day begunne.Such light to shamefast maidens must be showne,Where they may sport, and seeme to be unknowne.Then came Corinna in a long loose gowne,Her white neck hid with tresses hanging downe,Resembling fayre Semiramis going to bed,Or Layis of a thousand lovers sped.I snatcht her gowne: being thin, the harme was small,Yet strived she to be covered therewithall.And striving thus as one that would be cast,Betrayde her selfe, and yeelded at the last.Starke naked as she stood before mine eye,Not one wen in her body could I spie.What armes and shoulders did I touch and see,How apt her breasts were to be prest by me.How smooth a belly under her wast saw I,How large a legge, and what a lustie thigh?To leave the rest, all liked me passing well,I clinged her naked body, downe she fell,Judge you the rest, being tirde she bad me kisse;Jove send me more such after-noones as this.”

“I am Envy, begotten of a chimney-sweeper and an oyster-wife. I cannot read, and therefore wish all books were burnt; I am lean with seeing others eat - O that there would come a famine through all the world, that all might die, and I live alone; then thou should'st see how fat I would be! But must thou sit and I stand? Come down, with a vengeance!”