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Our foster-nurse of nature is repose.

One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish.

One desperate grief cures with another's languish.

Our wills and fates do so contrary run,

That our devices still are overthrown.

Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our

own.

Oft 'tis seen, the wicked prize itself
Buys out the law.

Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners.

Oh, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to stea away their brains!

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Patches, set upon a little breach,

Discredit more, in hiding of the fault,
Than did the fault before it was so patched.

Past, and to come, seem best; things present, worst.

Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage..

Pleasure and revenge

Have ears more deaf than adders to the voice Of any true decision.

Pride hath no other glass

To shew itself, but pride.

Perseverance

Keeps honour bright; to have done, is to hang

Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail

In monumental mockery.

Pity is the virtue of the law,

And none but tyrants use it cruelly.

Pitchers have ears.

Plenty, and peace, breeds cowards; hardness ever Of hardiness is mother.

Proper deformity seems not in the fiend
So horrid as in woman.

Plate sin with gold,

And the strong lance of justice hurtless breaks : Arm it in rags, a pigmy's straw doth pierce it.

Pleasure and action make the hours seem short.

Poor, and content, is rich, and rich enough;
But riches, fineless, is as poor as winter
To him that ever fears he shall be poor.

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