To beguile the time, look like the time.

Antonio: Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you? Sebastian: By your patience, no. My stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone. It were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you.

Such antics do not amount to a man.

So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground.

If thou remeber'st not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, thou hast not lov'd

Let still woman take An elder than herself: so wears she to him, So sways she level in her husband's heart, For, boy, however we do praise ourselves, Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, wavering, sooner to be lost and warn, Than women's are.

To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.