A good wit will make use of anything.

O serpent heart hid with a flowering face! Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave? Beautiful tyrant, feind angelical, dove feather raven, wolvish-ravening lamb! Despised substance of devinest show, just opposite to what thou justly seemest - A dammed saint, an honourable villain!

All that glitters is not gold.

'Tis pride that pulls the country down.

A lover goes toward his beloved as enthusiastically as a schoolboy leaving his books, but when he leaves his girlfriend, he feels as miserable as the schoolboy on his way to school. (Act 2, scene 2)

This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, Which gives men stomach to digest his words With better appetite.

He uses his folly like a stalking-horse, and under the presentation of that he shoots his wit.