Restrain thy mind, and let mildness ever attend thy tongue.
He who mistrusts most should be trusted least.
When we are dead; rugs are no richer than a quick-thorn bed.
Rash, angry words, and spoken out of season, When passion has usurp'd the throne of reason, Have ruin'd many. Passion is unjust, And for an idle, transitory gust Of gratified revenge, dooms us to pay With long repentance at a later day.
Not to be born at all would be the best thing for man.
Surfeit begets insolence, when prosperity comes to a bad man.