Cowards Die Many Times; A Brave Man

Assume A Virtue, If You Have It Not. That Monster, Custom, Who All Sense Doth Eat; Of Habits Devil, Is Angel Yet In This.

Be Merry, And Employ Your Chiefest Thoughts To Courtship And Such Fair Ostents Of Love As Shall Conveniently Become You There.

O, She's Warm! If This Be Magic, Let It Be An Art Lawful As Eating.

'tis Better To Be Vile Than Vile Esteemed, When Not To Be, Receives Reproach Of Being, And The Just Pleasure Lost, Which Is So Deemed, Not By Our Feeling, But By Others' Seeing.

My Crown Is In My Heart, Not On My Head.