He hath no leisure who useth it not.
Neither eyes on letters, nor hands in coffers.
When my house burnes, it's not good playing at Chesse.
He that will do thee a good turne, either he will be gon or dye.
Wouldst thou both eat thy cake and have it?
Science stands, a too competant servant, behind her wrangling underbred masters, holding out resources, devices, and remedies they are too stupid to use. ... And on its material side, a modern Utopia must needs present these gifts as taken.