I am falser than vows made in wine.
A man cannot make him laugh; but that's no marvel; he drinks no wine.... If I had a thousand sons, the first human principle I would teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.
A light wife doth make a heavy husband.
Tis the mind that makes the body rich.
Words to deeds cold breath gives.
This senior-junior, giant-dwarf, Dan Cupid; Regent of love-rhymes, lord of folded arms, The anointed sovereign of sighs and groans, Liege of all loiterers and malcontents.
He hath a heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks his tongue speaks.
Take heed, dear heart, of this large privilege; The hardest knife ill-used doth lose his edge.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
Tis our fast intent To shake all cares and business from our age, Conferring them on younger strengths, while we Unburdened crawl toward death.
When holy and devout religious men are at their beads, 'tis hard to draw them thence; so sweet is zealous contemplation.
The labor we delight in physics [cures] pain.
If fortune torments me, hope contents me.
Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, For things that are not to be remedied.
When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight, The cuckoo then, on every tree, Mocks married men; for thus sings he, Cuckoo; Cuckoo, cuckoo; O, word of fear, Unpleasing to a married ear.
ROSS You must have patience, madam. LADY MACDUFF He had none: His flight was madness: when our actions do not, Our fears do make us traitors.
Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; Art not without ambition, but without The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, And yet wouldst wrongly win.
Gives not the hawthorn bush a sweeter shade To shepherds, looking on their silly sheep, Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy To kings that fear their subjects treachery?
That skull had a tongue in it, and could sing once: how the knave jowls it to the ground, as if it were Cain's jaw-bone, that did the first murder! It might be the pate of a politician, which this ass now o'er-reaches; one that would circumvent God, might it not?
So our virtues lie in the interpretation of the time
We are not the first Who with best meaning have incurred the worst
We must love men, ere to us they will seem worthy of our love.
He was not so much brain as earwax
He that wants money, means, and content is without three good friends.
Foul cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, but gold that's put to use more gold begets.
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