Have more than thou showest, Speak less than thou knowest, Lend less than thou owest.

Women may fall when there's no strength in men.

What is light, if Sylvia be not seen? What is joy if Sylvia be not by?

By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.

Present fears are less than horrible imaginings.

GLOUCESTER: Yet so much is my poverty of spirit, So mighty and so many my defects, As I had rather hide me from my greatness, Being a bark to brook no mighty sea, Than in my greatness covet to be hid, And in the vapour of my glory smother'd. But God be thanked. . . .

He that dies this year is quit for the next.