How near to good is what is fair!
Spread yourself upon his bosom publicly, whose heart you would eat in private.
The covetous man never has money. The prodigal will have none shortly.
Great honours are great burdens, but on whom They are cast with envy, he doth bear two loads.
Tis the common disease of all your musicians that they know no mean, to be entreated, either to begin or end.
Who falls for love of God, shall rise a star.