Children blessings seem, but torments are.
Cowards are scared with threatenings; boys are whipped into confession; but a steady mind acts of itself, ne'er asks the body counsel.
Honesty needs no disguise nor ornament; be plain.
Could my griefs speak, the tale would have no end.
No flattery, boy! an honest man cannot live by it; it is a little, sneaking art, which knaves use to cajole and soften fools withal.
Base natures ever judge a thing above them, and hate a power they are too much obliged to.