For all true love is grounded on esteem.

What a Devil is the Plot good for, but to bring in fine things?

A mans fame and hayre grow most after death, and are both equally uselesse.

O! what a prodigal have I been of that most valuable of all possessions Time!

Our Poets make us laugh at Tragœdy, And with their Comoedies they make us cry.

I drink, I huff, I strut, look big and stare; And all this I can do, because I dare.

Kisses are but like sands of gold and silver, found upon the ground which are not worth much themselves but as they promise a mine near too be dig'd.

We recognised that just putting more flights and more passengers into the skies over southeast England wasn't worth the environmental costs we-re paying.

She that would raise a noble love must find Ways to beget a passion for her mind; She must be that which she to the world would seem, For all true love is grounded on esteem: Plainness and truth gain more a generous heart Than all the crooked subtleties of art.

Why, Sir, when I have anything to invent, I never trouble my head about it, as other men do; but presently turn over this Book, and there I have, at one view, all that Perseus , Montaigne , Seneca 's Tragedies , Horace , Juvenal , Claudian, Pliny , Plutarch 's lives , and the rest, have ever thought upon this subject: and so, in a trice, by leaving out a few words, or putting in others of my own, the business is done.

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