LIFE AND DEATH
There is no sure foundation set on blood, No certain life achieved by other’s death.
Death, having prey’d upon the outward parts, Leaves them invisible; and his siege is now Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds With many legions of strange fantasies. Which in their throng and
Press to that last hold, confound themselves. ’Tis strange that Death should sing.who chants doleful hymn to his own death.
I know not how conceit may rob The treasury of life, when life itself Yields to the theft.
The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth life.
Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
The worst is death, and death will have his day.
So wise so young, they say, do never live long.
The arbitrator of despairs, Just death, kind umpire of men’s miseries
The sense of death is most in apprehension.
Death is a fearful thing and shamed life a hateful.
The weariest and most loathed worldly life That age, ache, penury and imprisonment Can lay on nature,
Is paradise, to what we fear of death.
O, Death is a great disguiser.
We are stuff as dreams are made of on and our little life is rounded with sleep.
Cowards die many times before their death. The valiant never taste of death but once.
Life ’s but a walking shadows poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stagehand then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Kill with a living death
The hollow eyes of death
Deaths pale flag
Unsubstantial death is amorous.
Crawl toward death
World’s exile is death.
Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs, being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers eyes; being vext
A sea nourished with lover’s tears’ madness most discreet, a choking gall and a preserving sweet.
The love of wicked friends converts to fear; That fear to hate; and hate turns one both to worthy danger
And deserved death.
The course of true love never did run smooth.
Love can transpose to form and dignity. Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.
Love is said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.
Reason and love keep little company together.
They do not love that they do not show their love.
Love is blind.
The chameleon love can feed on the air.
Love hath twenty pairs of eyes.
They say that love hath not an eye at all.
Love’s a mighty lord.
Love delights in praises.
Love is still most precious in itself.
Hope is a lover’s staff.
O, ’tis the curse in love and still approved when women cannot love where they’re beloved.
If shame lives in a disguise of love, it is the lesser blot, modesty finds women to change their shapes them men their mind.
Tears show their love, but want their remedies.
Love is like a child that longs for everything that he can comedy.
Grief is proud and makes his owner stout.
In good sooth; the fire is dead with grief.
Man’s nature cannot carry the affliction nor the fear.
Each substance of grief hath twenty shadows, Which shows like grief itself, but is not so; for sorrow’s eye, glazed with blinding tears, Divides one thing entire to many objects; like perspectives, which rightly
Gazed upon, show nothing but confusion.
My grief lies all within; And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief that swells with silence in the tortured soul.
Small things make base men proud. True nobility is exempt from fear.
What is in this world but grief and woe.
Pardon is still the nurse of second woe.
Woe to that land that’s govern’d by a child.
One desperate grief cures with another’s languish.
The art of our necessities is strange that can make vile things precious.
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile. self-love, is not so vile a sin as self- neglecting.
To be a queen in bondage is more vile than a slave in base servility.
And he that stands upon slippery place makes nice of novice hold to stay him up.
Every man’s conscience is a thousand swords.
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, And every tongue brings in a several tale.
Conscience is but a word that cowards use, devised at first to keep the strong in awe.
Against my conscience and soul.
The worm of conscience still be gnaw thy soul.
Time shall unfold what pleated cunning hides; Who covers faults, at last shame them derides.
In the dark backward and abysm of time
Time is very bankrupt and owes more thane’s worth to season.
Time himself is bald and therefore to the world’s end will have bald followers.
Time comes stealing on by night and day.
Time ’s the king of men, for he is their parent and he is their grave and gives them what he will, not what thy crave
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
Bid a sick man in sadness make his will
O, teach me how I should forget to think.
Ay mine, own fortune is my misery. under love’s heavy burden do I sink. Expire the term of despised life too early seen unknown and known too late.
The earth, that’s nature mother is her tomb; What is her burying grave, that is her womb.
Care keeps his watch in every Oldman’s eye.
He that is stricken blind cannot forget the precious treasure of his eyesight lost.
One fire burns out another’s burning, one pain lessened by another’s anguish.
Mine own fortune is my misery.
Dreamers often lie.
Dreams which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy, which is as of them of substance as the air and more inconstant than the wind.
Women may fall, when there ’s no strength in men.
They stumble that run fast.
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
Unseemly woman in a seeming man.
Fortune is fickle.
’Tis an ill cook that cannot lick his own fingers.
Silver hath a sweet sound.
Inhabit and device
Some sins do bear their privilege on earth.
Your fault was not your folly.
For courage mounteth with occasion.
Being as like as rain to waterer devil to his dam.
Naked as the vulgar air.
Cold in amity and painted peace when law can do no right, let it be lawful that law bar no wrong.
It is religion that doth make vows kept.
As hollow as a ghost.
When fortune means to men most goodish looks upon them with a threatening eye.
Strong reasons make strong actions.
Wasteful and ridiculous excess
Get feathers to thy heels.
Fly like thought
Be great in acts you have been in thought.
Machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our graves.
Nothing can be made out of nothing.
How sharper than a serpent’s tooth it is to have a thankless child.
Fathers that wear rage do make their children blind, but fathers that bear bags Shall see their children
The winds and persecutions of the sky
Horses are tied by the heads, dogs and bears by the neck, monkey by the loins and men by the legs.
Fortune that arrant whore, ne’er turns the key to the poor.
Let not women’s weapons, water drops stain my man’s cheeks.
The to-and-fro- conflicting wind and rain
A gentleman of blood and breeding.
The pattern of all patience
I am a man more sinn’d against than sinning.
The younger raises when the old doth fall.
Fox in stealth, wolf in greediness, dog in madness, lion in prey.
He’s mad that trusts in the lameness of a wolf, a horse’s health, a boy’s love, or a whore’s oath.
Have seen sunshine and rain at once.
Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved, if all could so become it.
It is the stars, the stars above us, govern our conditions.
Through tattered clothes small vices do appear; Robes and furr’d gowns hide all.
To know our enemies minds, we’ll rip their hearts.
Each jealous of the other, as the sting are of the adder.
Jesters do oft prove prophets.
Since the more fair and crystal is the sky, the uglies seem the clouds that in it fly.
Giving reins and spins to free speech.
What I speak, my life shall prove it true.
From the tongueless caverns of the earth
Deep malice makes too deep incision.
Forget, forgive, conclude, and be agreed.
The purest treasure mortal times afford is spotless reputation.
By envy’s hand and murder’s bloody axe.
That which in mean men we entitle patience, is pale cowardice in noble breasts.
Truth hath a quiet breast.
Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.
There is no virtue like necessity.
The tongues of dying men enforce attention like deep harmony; where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain, for they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain.
Direct not him, whose way himself will choose.
Violent fires soon burn out themselves; small showers last long, but sudden storms are short.
Men living flatter those that die.
Misery makes sport to mock itself.
Men judge by the complexion of the sky, the state, and inclination of the day.
Barren and bereft of friends.
Fight with gentle words till time lend friends, and friends their helpful swords.
To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend the knee.
As dissolute as desperate.
It is as hard to come as for a camel to thread the postem of a small needles eye.
How sour music is, when time is broke and no proportion kept.
Pride must have a fall.
Earth gape open wide.
When devils tell the truth.
All the world is cheered by the sun.
Pause to sob and weep.
Blind with weeping.
Widow to a woeful bed.
Wayward sickness, and no grounded malice.
Wrens may prey where eagles dare not perch.
As it was won with blood, lost be it so.
Sin, death, and hell have set their marks.
Empty, vast, and wandering air.
The kingdom of perpetual night.
Sparrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, Makes the night morning and the noontide night.
Why grow the branches when the root is gone.
When clouds are seen wise men put on their cloaks, when get leaves fall, then winter is at hand.
The waters swell before a boisterous storm.
Small herbs have grace, great weeds do grow apace
Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.
Pitchers have ears.
Obdurate to mild entreaties.
By face straight shall you know heart.
Speak and look back and pry on every side, Tremble and start at wagging of a straw
Raging eye or savaged heart
Discipline in war, wisdom in peace swallowing gulf of dark forgetfulness, and deep oblivion.
To depart in silence, Or bitterly to speak in your reproof.
Being a bark to brook no mighty sea.
A breath, a bubble, sign of dignity A very prey to time.
All unavoided is the doom of destiny.
Plain and not honest is too harsh a style
Your reasons are too shallow and too quick.
Old wither’d plants, to wail it with their age.
A giddy neighbour
Like the tide into a breach.
With ample and brim fullness.
More fear’d than harm’d.
The ooze and bottom of the sea.
The honeybees, creatures that, by rule in nature, teach the art of order to a peopled kingdom.
Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth.
Bestow a breakfast to make friends.
Knives have edges.
The weight and worthiness.
As gross as black from white.
Working with the eye without the ear.
Sharp as a pen
As cold as any stone.
As fierce as waters to the sucking of a gulf.
Roots that shall first springing be most delicate.
In peace there is nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility.
A killing tongue and a quiet sword.
With conscience wide as hell.
Advantage is a better soldier than rashness.
Theme as fluent as the sea.
Doing is activity.
Eat like wolves and fight like devils.
The empty vessel makes the greatest sound.
Conceive by idleness.
Wider than a dragon’s wings. Deed exceed all speeches.
Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself. Till, by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.
Helen, the mother of great Constantine.
Adonis gardens, that one day bloomed and fruitful were the next.
No wise than a daw
Like a mountain not to be removed.
Civil dissension is a viperous worm that gnaws the bowels.
Malice is a great and grievous sin.
Defer no time, Delays have dangerous ends.
Weal or woe
Lean famine, quartering steel, and climbing fire.
Of all base passions, fear is most accurst.
Beauty’s princely majesty is such, confounds the tongue, and makes the senses rough.
Marriage is a matter of more worth than to be dealt in by attorneyship. For what is wedlock forced but a hell, an age of discord and continued strife.
From wandering fall to weeping joys.
Pride went before, ambition follows him.
A crafty knave does need no broker.
Wizards know their times. Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night the time of night when Troy was set on fire.
God gives light in darkness, comfort in despair.
Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep.
The fox barks not, when be would steal the lamb.
For things are often spoke and seldom meant.
With tears as salt as sea.
There is no better sign of brave mind than a hard hand.
Women are soft, mild, pitiful, and flexible ’tis virtue that doth make them most admired.
’Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud.
A hapless father’s tears.
To weep is to make less the depth of grief.
The smallest worm will turn being trodden on.
That things ill-got had ever bad success.
A crown is called content-a crown that is seldom kings enjoy.
Add colors to the chameleon.
How can tyrants safely govern home Unless abroad they purchase great alliance?
Hasty marriage seldom privet well.
Suspicion always has its the guilty mind.
The owl shrieking- an evil sign.
The night-crow crying- aboding luckless time.
Grace is grace, despite of all controversy.
Good counsellors lack no clients.
A man of stricture and firm abstinence.
The fault and glimpses of newness.
Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by learning to attempt.
Make scarecrow of the law.
’Tis one thing to be tempted, another thing to fall.
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.
Can it be That modesty may more betray our sense Than woman’s lightness?
Lawful mercy is nothing kin to foul redemption.
Sin’s not accidental but a trade
Virtue is gold, and goodness never fearful.
Tune, matter, and method.
O, what may man within him hide, though angel on the outward side.
All difficulties are but easy when they are known.
They say, butane are moulded out of faults; And, for the most become much more the better for being little bad.
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
Served without or grudge and grumbling.
You rub the sore, when you shouldering the plaster.
This is a strange repose, to be asleep With eyes wide open standing speaking, moving and yet so fast asleep.
As a cat laps milk.
Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.
The rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance.
A surgeon to old shoes; when they are in great danger I recover them disrobe the images.
The eye sees not itself but by reflection from some other thing.
Men at some time are master of their fate; the fault is not in our stars, but in ourselves.
Th’ abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power.
It is common proof, That lowliness is young ambition’s ladder.
Let not our looks put on our purposes suck up the humors of the dark morning.
Constant as the northern star
For with long travel I am stiff and weary.
Many men would take you at your word.
Jeer and flout me in the teeth.
Headstrong liberty is last with woe.
Seek my wit in my shoulders.
They say every why hath a wherefore.
Either at flesh or fish.
Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast.
A niggardly host and more sparing guest.
Be not thy tongue thy own shame’s orator.
Apparel vice-like virtue’s harbinger.
It is time to trudge, pack, and be gone.
A shrew, first begin to brawl.
Light is an effect of fire and fire will burn.
The venom- glamours of a jealous woman poisons more deadly than a mad- dog’s tooth.
Un quiet meals make ill digestions.
Momentary as a sound, swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night so quick bright things come to confusion.
Scorn and derision never come in tears.
Make months upon me when I turn my back; wink at each other. The lunatic, the lover and the poet are of imagination all compact.
In the night, imagining some fear, how easy is a bush supposed a bear.
Never anything can be amiss when simpleness and duty tender it.
It is not enough to speak but to speak true.
Black and deep desires
Valor of my tongue.
False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
There ’s daggers in men’s smiles.
Horses swift and sure of foot.
Let every man be master of his time.
Full of scorpions in mind.
When our actions do not, our fears do make us traitors.
A traitor is one that swears and lies.
Boundless temperance in nature is tyranny.
The night is long that never finds the day.
What’s done cannot be undone.
Unnatural deed do breed unnatural troubles; infected minds to their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets.
The world, a stage, where every man must play a part.
Fence with own shadow.
Thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.
The devil can cite scripture for his purpose.
It is wise father that knows his own child.
So young a body with so old a head.
Well paid that is well satisfied.
Greater glory dim the less.
Fortune with her ivory hand
’Tis not enough to help the feeble up, but to support him after.
Poisonous spite and envy.
Faith, for the worst, is filthy, and would not hold taking.
He forfeits his own blood that spills another.
The icy precepts of respect.
Poison and treason are the hands of sin.
The great ones eat up little ones.
As jewels lose their glory if neglected, So princes their renown if not respected.
Men take women’s gifts for impudence.
Virtue and cunning were endowments greater than nobleness and richness.
Indeed, a sheep doth very often stray an if the shepherd be awhile away.
The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd.
Fire that’s closest kept burns most of all.
To whisper and conspire against.
In having known no travel in his youth.
He cannot be perfect man, not being tried and tutor’d in the world.
Experience Is by industry achieved and perfected by the swift course of time.
Truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
White as ally and as small as a wand.
Complete in feature and in mind, with all good grace to grace gentleman.
As patient as gentle stream.
Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, more than quick words, do move a woman’s mind.
She has a sweet mouth. that makes amends for her sour breath.
To be slow in words is a woman’s only virtue.
Book Reviewed by Vathukkat Krishnan Kutty.