A politician is the devil's quilted anvil; He fashions all sins on him, and the blows are never heard.
Though lust do masque in ne'er so strange disguise she's oft found witty, but is never wise.
Ambition, madam, is a great man's madness.
I have long served virtue, And never ta'en wages of her.
Heaven fashioned us of nothing; and we strive to bring ourselves to nothing.
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.