Hushed as midnight silence.
Fortune, that with malicious joyDoes man her slave oppress,Proud of her office to destroy,Is seldom pleasd to bless.
The sooner you treat your son as a man, the sooner he will be one.
Boldness is a mask for fear, however great.
Such subtle Covenants shall be made,Till Peace it self is War in Masquerade.
There is a proud modesty in merit.