Methinks you are my glass, and not my brother: I see by you I am a sweet-faced youth.

Honour travels in a strait so narrow Where one but goes abreast.

Though this be madness, yet there is method in't.

What can be happier than for a man, conscious of virtuous acts, and content with liberty, to despise all human affairs?

Lord, what fools these mortals be!

Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short; youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; Youth is wild, and age is tame.

The readiness is all.