That old bald cheater, Time.
I do honor the very flea of his dog.
Opinion is a light, vain, crude, and imperfect thing.
Whom hatred frights, let him not dream of sovereignty.
Who will not judge him worthy to be robbed That sets his doors wide open to a thief, And shows the felon where his treasure lies?
Folly often goes beyond her bounds, but impudence knows none.