Lions make leopards tame.
Like madness is the glory of this life, as this pomp shows to a little oil and root.
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale, vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man.
Let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings; How some have been deposed; some slain in war, Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed; Some poison’d by their wives: some sleeping kill’d; All murder’d.
Let them obey that know not how to rule.
Let none presume to wear an undeserved dignity. O that estates, degrees, and offices, were not derived corruptly, and that clear honor were purchased by the merit of the wearer.
Let no such man be trusted.
Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, For wise men say it is the wisest course.
Let every man be master of his time.
Let every eye negotiate for itself, and trust no agent.
