Whom the disease of talking still once posses-seth, he can never hold his peace.
For whose sake, henceforth, all his vows be such, As what he loves may never like too much.
O, for an engine, to keep back all clocks, or make the sun forget his motion!
Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine.
There is no doctrine will do good where nature is wanting.
How near to good is what is fair!