The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
Love goes toward love.
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
What the great ones do, the less will prattle of
Romeo: I dreamt a dream tonight. Mercutio: And so did I. Romeo: Well, what was yours? Mercutio: That dreamers often lie. Romeo: In bed asleep while they do dream things true.
So distribution should undo excess, and each man have enough.