Listen to many, speak to a few.
How much more doth beauty beauteous seem by that sweet ornament which truth doth give!
I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hacked.
What the vengeance, could he not speak 'em fair?
Weed your better judgments of all opinion that grows rank in them.
Perseverance... keeps honor bright: to have done, is to hang quite out of fashion, like a rusty nail in monumental mockery.