True melancholy breeds your perfect fine wit.
Nor use too swelling, or ill-sounded words . . . .
O, for an engine, to keep back all clocks, or make the sun forget his motion!
He that would have his virtue published, is not the servant of virtue, but glory.
It is less dishonor to hear imperfectly than to speak imperfectly. The ears are excused; the understanding is not.
A thankful man owes a courtesy ever; the unthankful but when he needs it.