So wise so young, they say, do never live long.
Why should honor outlive honestly? Orthello
There lives within the very flame of love A kind of wick or snuff that will abate it.
And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear, millions of mischiefs.
What is aught but as 'tis valued?
What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poisoned flattery?