No man is free from speaking foolish things
     No man more certain than another of to-morrow—­Seneca
     No necessity upon a man to live in necessity
     No one can be called happy till he is dead and buried
     No other foundation or support than public abuse
     No passion so contagious as that of fear
     No physic that has not something hurtful in it
     No use to this age, I throw myself back upon that other
     No way found to tranquillity that is good in common
     Noble and rich, where examples of virtue are rarely lodged
     Nobody prognosticated that I should be wicked, but only useless
     Noise of arms deafened the voice of laws
     None of the sex, let her be as ugly as the devil thinks lovable
     Nor get children but before I sleep, nor get them standing
     Nor have other tie upon one another, but by our word
     Nosegay of foreign flowers, having furnished nothing of my own
     Not a victory that puts not an end to the war
     Not being able to govern events, I govern myself
     Not believe from one, I should not believe from a hundred
     Not certain to live till I came home
     Not conceiving things otherwise than by this outward bark
     Not conclude too much upon your mistress’s inviolable chastity
     Not for any profit, but for the honour of honesty itself
     Not having been able to pronounce one syllable, which is No! 
     Not in a condition to lend must forbid himself to borrow
     Not melancholic, but meditative
     Not to instruct but to be instructed
     Not want, but rather abundance, that creates avarice
     Nothing can be a grievance that is but once
     Nothing falls where all falls
     Nothing is more confident than a bad poet
     Nothing is so firmly believed, as what we least know
     Nothing is so supple and erratic as our understanding
     Nothing noble can be performed without danger
     Nothing presses so hard upon a state as innovation
     Nothing so grossly, nor so ordinarily faulty, as the laws
     Nothing tempts my tears but tears
     Nothing that so poisons as flattery
     Number of fools so much exceeds the wise
     O Athenians, what this man says, I will do
     O my friends, there is no friend:  Aristotle
     O wretched men, whose pleasures are a crime
     O, the furious advantage of opportunity! 
     Obedience is never pure nor calm in him who reasons and disputes
     Obliged to his age for having weaned him from pleasure
     Observed the laws of marriage, than I either promised or expect
     Obstinacy and contention are common qualities
     Obstinacy is the sister of constancy
     Obstinancy and heat in argument are the surest proofs of folly
     Obstinate in growing worse
     Occasion to La Boetie to write his “Voluntary Servitude”
     Occasions of the least