And sleep, that sometime shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company.

“I can hardly forbear hurling things at him.”

“Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.”

“The setting sun, and music at the close,As the last taste of sweets, is sweetes…”

“Why may not that be the skull of a lawyer? Where be his quiddities now, his qui…”