The appurtenance of welcome is fashion and ceremony.
Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, Passing through nature to eternity.
Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition
None can cure their harms by wailing them.
I know a lady in Venice would have walked barefoot to Palestine for a touch of his nether lip
'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed