Tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation.
Let the galled jade wince; our withers are unwrung.
Such tricks hath strong imagination, That, if it would but apprehend some joy, It comprehends some bringer of that joy; Or in the night, imagining some fear, How easy is a bush supposed a bear!
As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
Honour travels in a strait so narrow Where one but goes abreast.
You have too much respect upon the world; They lose it that do buy it with much care