Thou art a retailer of phrases, and dost deal in remnants of remnants.
To find a young fellow that is neither a wit in his own eye, nor a fool in the eye of the world, is a very hard task.
A hungry wolf at all the herd will run, In hopes, through many, to make sure of one.
Whoever is king, is also the father of his country.
I know that’s a secret, for it’s whispered everywhere.
Honor is a public enemy, and conscience a domestic, and he that would secure his pleasure, must pay a tribute to one and go halves with t'other.