Perfect happiness, by princes sought, Is not with birth born, nor exchequers bought.

And let a scholar all earth's volumes carry, he will be but a walking dictionary: a mere articulate clock.

The incompetent quickly throws himself into another impressive enterprise in order to escape his responsibility from previous disaster.

Man is a torch borne in the wind; a dream But of a shadow, summed with all his substance.

Make ducks and drakes with shillings.

Fair words never hurt the tongue.

Fate's such a shrewish thing.