Most subject is the fattest soil to weeds.
To you your father should be as a god.
Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.
Policy sits above conscience.
O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee, 1710. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Neither a borrower nor a lender be, for loan oft loses both itself and friend, and borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.