To gild refined gold, to paint the lily... is wasteful and ridiculous excess
Take it in what sense thou wilt.
The pow'r that I have on you is to spare you; The malice towards you to forgive you.
I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.
What e'er thou art, act well thy part.
He hath not eat paper, as it were; he hath not drunk ink; his intellect is not replenished; he is only an animal, only sensible in the duller parts. (Shakespeare, Love's Labor's Lost, IV)