Love that well which thou must leave ere long.
Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.
When once our grace we have forgot, Nothing goes right.
He thinks too much. Such men are dangerous.
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility.
'Tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.