All that glitters is not gold.
‘Tis not enough to help the feeble up, but to support him after.
Your old virginity, is like one of our French withered pears; it looks ill, it eats drily.
You taught me language; and my profit on ‘t is, I know how to curse.
Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look.
Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news Hath but a losing office, and his tongue Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, Remember’d tolling a departing friend.
Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.
Women may fall, when there’s no strength in men.
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.
Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.
Wise men ne’er sit and wail their loss, But cheerly seek how to redress their harms.
Wisdom and goodness to the vile seem vile.
