To smell to a turf of fresh earth is wholesome for the body; no less are thoughts of mortality cordial to the soul.
The lion is not so fierce as painted.
... Their heads sometimes so little that there is no room for wit; sometimes so long that there is no wit for so much room.
Often the cock-loft is empty in those whom nature hath built many stories high.
The Pyramids themselves, doting with age, have forgotten the names of their founders.
... One that will not plead that cause wherein his tongue must be confuted by his conscience.
But our captain counts the image of God—nevertheless his image—cut in ebony as if done in ivory; and in the blackest Moors he sees the representation of the King of Heaven.