All things that are, are with more spirit chased than enjoyed.
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear
This thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine.
It is the very error of the moon; She comes more nearer earth than she was wont, And makes men mad.
Prosperity's the very bond of love, Whose fresh complexion and whose heart together Affliction alters.
New customs, Though they be never so ridiculous (Nay, let em be unmanly), yet are followed.