Brevity is the soul of wit.

This fellow is wise enough to play the fool; And to do that well craves a kind of wit: He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time, And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye. This is a practise As full of labour as a wise man's art For folly that he wisely shows is fit; But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.

A merry heart goes all the way, - A sad one tires inan hour.

Time is the old justice that examines all such offenders, and let Time try.

A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm

Speak of me as I am. Nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice.

Why, what's the matter, That you have such a February face, So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?