Says of wood, that it is an excrescence of the earth
Seems she hath had long melancholy upon her
Sermon ended, and the church broke up, and my amours ended also
Sermon upon Original Sin, neither understood by himself
Sermon without affectation or study
Shame such a rogue should give me and all of us this trouble
She has this silly vanity that she must play
Sick of it and of him for it
Silence; it being seldom any wrong to a man to say nothing
Singing with many voices is not singing
So every thing stands still for money
Some ends of my own in what advice I do give her
Sorry thing to be a poor King
Spares not to blame another to defend himself
Sparrowgrass
Speaks rarely, which pleases me mightily
Spends his time here most, playing at bowles
Sport to me to see him so earnest on so little occasion
Street ordered to be continued, forty feet broad, from Paul's
Supper and to bed without one word one to another
Suspect the badness of the peace we shall make
Swear they will not go to be killed and have no pay
Take pins out of her pocket to prick me if I should touch her
The pleasure of my not committing these things to my memory
The world do not grow old at all
The gates of the City shut, it being so late
Their condition was a little below my present state
Then home, and merry with my wife
They are all mad; and thus the kingdom is governed!
They want where to set their feet, to begin to do any thing