William Shakespeare

It may do good; pride hath no other glass
To show itself but pride, for supple knees
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It may do good; pride hath no other glass
To show itself but pride, for supple knees
Feed arrogance and are the proud man's fees.

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come,
And let my liver rather heat with wine
Than read more

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come,
And let my liver rather heat with wine
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.

O how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!

O how wretched
Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favours!

For the rain it raineth every day. -Twelfth Night. Act v. Sc. 1.

For the rain it raineth every day. -Twelfth Night. Act v. Sc. 1.

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied read more

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.