The nature of bad news affects the teller.

She lov'd me for the dangers I had pass'd, And I lov'd her that she did pity them

The will is deaf and hears no heedful friends.

Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind.

Where the bee sucks, there suck I In the cow-slip's bell i lie There I couch when owls do cry

Cease to lament for that thou canst not help; and study help for that which thou lamentest.

Here comes a man of comfort, whose advice Hath often stilled my brawling discontent.