All that glitters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life has sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms enfold Had you been as wise as bold, Your in limbs, in judgment old, Your answer had not been in'scroll'd Fare you well: your suit is cold.' Cold, indeed, and labour lost: Then, farewell, heat and welcome, frost!

To beguile the time, look like the time.

But here's the joy: my friend and I are one, Sweet flattery!

To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast!

Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises.

Patience is sottish, and impatience does become a dog that's mad.

A friend should bear his friend's infirmities.