All that glisters is not gold. As all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly. All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players. All's brave that youth mounts and folly guides. A woman's thought runs before her actions. Aged honour cites a virtuous youth. A young man married is a man that's marr'd. A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner; but one that lies three-thirds, and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once heard, and thrice beaten. All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown; Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell. A little snow, tumbled about, Anon becomes a mountain. All places that the eye of heaven visits At hand, quoth pick-purse! A habitation giddy and unsure A good heart's worth gold. A rotten case abides no handling. Against ill chances men are ever merry, A peace is of the nature of a conquest; For then both parties nobly are subdued, And neither party loser. An honest man is able to speak for himself, when a knave is not. Advantage is a better soldier than rashness. A fool's bolt is soon shot. A surfeit of the sweetest things The deepest loathing to the stomach brings. A good leg will fall, a straight back will stoop, a black beard will turn white, a curled pate will grow bald, a fair face will wither, a full eye will wax hollow; but a good heart is the sun and moon; or, rather, the sun, and not the moon, for it shines bright, and never changes, but keeps his course truly. An evil soul, producing holy witness, A friend i'the court is better than a penny in purse. A crafty knave does need no broker. A staff is quickly found to beat a dog. A subtle traitor needs no sophister. A little fire is quickly trodden out; An honest tale speeds best, being plainly told. A beggar's book out-worths a noble's blood. Anger is like A full-hot horse, who being allowed his way, All hoods make not monks. A stirring dwarf we do allowance give All, with one consent, praise new-born gawds, Though they are made and moulded of things past, And give to dust, that is a little gilt, More laud than gilt o'er-dusted. A woman impudent and mannish grown Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man In time of action. A plague of opinion! a man may wear it on both sides, like a leather jerkin. |