Talking isn't doing. It is a kind of good deed to say well and yet words are not deeds.

My brain I'll prove the female to my soul; my soul the father: and these two beget a generation of still-breeding thoughts, and these same thoughts people this little world.

Well, heaven forgive him! And forgive us all! Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none: And some condemned for a fault alone.

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause.

Great men may jest with saints 'tis wit in them But in the less foul profanation.

Tongues in trees, books in running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.