It Is A Most Unhappy State To

Men Are Like Wine,--not Good Before The Lees Of Clownishness Be Settled.

For Converse Among Men, Beautiful Persons Have Less Need Of The Mind's Commending Qualities. Beauty In Itself Is Such A Silent Orator, That It Is Ever Pleading For Respect And Liking, And By The Eyes Of Others Is Ever Sending, To Their Hearts For Love.

There Is No Detraction Worse Than To Overpraise A Man, For If His Worth Proves Short Of What Report Doth Speak Of Him, His Own Actions Are Ever Giving The Lie To His Honor.

Arrogance Is A Weed Which Grows Upon A Dunghill; It Is From The Rankness Of The Soil That She Has Her Height And Spreadings: Witness, Clowns, Fools, And Fellows, Who From Nothing, Are Lifted Up Some Few Steps On Fortune's Ladder: Where, Seeing The Glorious Representment Of Honour Above Them, They Are So Eager To Embrace It, That They Strive To Leap Thither At Once, And By Over-reaching Themselves In The Way, They Fail Of The End, And Fall.

When Two Friends Part They Should Lock Up One Another's Secrets, And Interchange Their Keys.