O heaven! were man / But constant, he were perfect.

O good old man, how well in thee appears The constant service of the antique world, When service sweat for duty, not for meed! Thou art not for the fashion of these times, When none will sweat but for promotion

Words without thoughts never to heaven go.

The love of heaven makes one heavenly.

This look of thine will hurl my soul from heaven.

Man, proud man, dressed in a little brief authority, like an angry ape, play such fantastic tricks before high heaven as make the angels weep