To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof little more than a little is by much too much.

Cease thy counsel, for thy words fall into my ears as priceless as water into a seive.

There should be hours for necessities, not for delights; times to repair our nature with comforting repose, and not for us to waste these times.

Give it an understanding, but no tongue.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, All losses are restored and sorrows end.

I am sir Oracle, and when I ope my lips, let no dog bark.

If the skin were parchment and the blows you gave were ink, Your own handwriting would tell you what I think.