Honour of valour consists in fighting, not in subduing How infirm and decaying material this fabric of ours is How many and many times he has been mistaken in his own judgment How many more have died before they arrived at thy age How many several ways has death to surprise us? “How many things,” said he, “I do not desire!” How many worthy men have we known to survive their reputation How much easier is it not to enter in than it is to get out How much it costs him to do no worse How much more insupportable and painful an immortal life How uncertain duration these accidental conveniences are Humble out of pride Husbands hate their wives only because they themselves do wrong I always find superfluity superfluous I am a little tenderly distrustful of things that I wish I am apt to dream that I dream I am disgusted with the world I frequent I am hard to be got out, but being once upon the road I am no longer in condition for any great change I am not to be cuffed into belief I am plain and heavy, and stick to the solid and the probable I am very glad to find the way beaten before me by others I am very willing to quit the government of my house I bequeath to Areteus the maintenance of my mother I can more hardly believe a man’s constancy than any virtue I cannot well refuse to play with my dog I content myself with enjoying the world without bustle I dare not promise but that I may one day be so much a fool I do not consider what it is now, but what it was then I do not judge opinions by years I do not much lament the dead, and should envy them rather I do not say that ‘tis well said, but well thought I do not willingly alight when I am once on horseback I enter into confidence with dying I ever justly feared to raise my head too high I every day hear fools say things that are not foolish I find myself here fettered by the laws of ceremony I find no quality so easy to counterfeit as devotion I for my part always went the plain way to work I grudge nothing but care and trouble I had much rather die than live upon charity I had rather be old a brief time, than be old before old age I hail and caress truth in what quarter soever I find it I hate all sorts of tyranny, both in word and deed I hate poverty equally with pain I have a great aversion from a novelty “I have done nothing to-day”“What? have you not lived?” I have lived longer by this one day than I should have done I have no mind to die, but I have no objection to be dead I have not a wit supple enough to evade a sudden question I have nothing of my own that satisfies my judgment I honour those most to whom I show the least honour I lay no great stress upon my opinions; or of others