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A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.

There are many events in the womb of time which will be delivered.

False face must hide what the false heart doth know.

Go to your bosom; Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.

O sleep! O gentle sleep! Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more wilt weigh mine eyelids down And steep my senses in forgetfulness? Why, rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs, Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee, And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber, Than in the perfum'd chambers of the great, Under canopies of costly state, And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?

When we are born, we cry that we are come To this great stage of fools.

Conscience is but a word that cowards use, Devised at first to keep the strong in awe.

Cock-crow at Christmas Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long; And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time.

I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was.

Some men never seem to grow old. Always active in thought, always ready to adopt new ideas, they are never chargeable with foggyism. Satisfied, yet ever dissatisfied, settled, yet ever unsettled, they always enjoy the best of what is, are the first to find the best of what will be.