No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's virtue nor sufficiency To be so moral when he shall endure The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel: My griefs cry louder than advertisement.

Cheerily to sea; the signs of war advance: No king of England, if not king of France

To be direct and honest is not safe.

Forever, and forever, farewell, Cassius! If we do meet again, why, we shall smile; If not, why then this parting was well made.

Love is . . . a madness most discreet

So curses all Eve's daughters of what complexion soever.

Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.