Sweet are the uses of adversity which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head.
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- Don’t trust the person who has broken faith once.
- Through tattered clothes, small vices do appear. Robes and furred gowns hide all.
- When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought And with old woes new wail my dear time’s waste. Then can I drown an eye (unused to flow) For precious friends hid in death’s dateless night, and weep afresh love’s long since cancelled woe, and moan the expense of many a vanished sight. Then can I grieve at grievances foregone, and heavily from woe to woe tell over the sad account of fore-bemoaned moan, Which I new pay as if not paid before. But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, all losses are restored and sorrows end.
- Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
- I had rather be a toad, and live upon the vapor of a dungeon than keep a corner in the thing I love for others uses.
- And I did laugh sans intermission an hour by his dial. O noble fool, a worthy fool — motley’s the only wear.