He that can endure

To follow with allegiance a fallen lord

Does conquer him that did his master conquer.

How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature!

He that sleeps feels not the toothache.

He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.

He was a wise fellow, and had good discretion, that being bid to ask what he would of the king, desired he might know none of his secrets.

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is
To have a thankless child!

Have more than thou shewest,
Speak less than thou knowest,

Lend less than thou owest.

He that has a house to put 's head in has a good head-piece.

He that is stricken blind cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.

He jests at scars that never felt a wound.

He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.


poor are they that have not patience.

He that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him,
And makes me poor indeed.

He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen, Let him not know't, and he's not robb'd at all.


In nature there's no blemish but the mind, None can be called deformed but the unkind.

In love, the heavens themselves do guide the state;

Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.

It comes to pass oft, that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself could have earned them.

If our virtues

Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike

As if we had them not.

It is excellent

To have a giant's strength; but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant.

Is the jay more precious than the lark,
Because his feathers are more beautiful?

Or is the adder better than the eel,
Because his painted skin contents the eye?

It oft falls out,

To have what we'd have, we speak not what we


In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.

It is the witness still of excellency,

To put a strange face on his own perfection.

In a false quarrel there is no true valour.

If a man do not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument than the bell rings and the widow weeps.

If a man will be beaten with brains, he shall wear nothing handsome about him.

If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces.

It is a good divine that follows his own instructions.

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