Conscience is but a word that cowards use, devised at first to keep the strong in awe
Nay, do not think I flatter. For what advancement may I hope from thee, That no revenue hast but thy good spirits To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flattered?
I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
Grace and remembrance be to you both.
The clock upbraids me with the waste of time.
What the great ones do, the less will prattle of