I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed!
Many dream not to find, neither deserve, and yet are steeped in favors.
There's some ill planet reigns: I must be patient till the heavens look With an aspect more favourable.
No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience To those that wring under the load of sorrow, But no man's virtue nor sufficiency To be so moral when he shall endure The like himself. Therefore give me no counsel: My griefs cry louder than advertisement.
Every man has business and desire, Such as it is.
Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.