Man may his fate foresee, but not prevent. 'Tis better to be fortunate than wise.
Ambition, madam, is a great man's madness.
Is not old wine wholesomest, old pippins toothsomest, old wood burn brightest, old linen wash whitest? Old soldiers, sweethearts, are surest, and old lovers are soundest.
Lay this unto your breast: Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best.
Woman to man Is either a God or a wolfe.
In all our quest of greatness, like wanton boys, whose pastime is their care, we follow after bubbles, blown in the air.