Though lust do masque in ne'er so strange disguise she's oft found witty, but is never wise.
From John Webster
When I go to hell, I mean to carry a bribe: for look you, good gifts evermore make way for the worst persons.
That friend a great man's ruin strongly checks, who rails into his belief all his defects.
We are merely the stars tennis-balls, struck and bandied which way please them.
'Tis better to be fortunate than wise.
For the subtlest folly proceeds from the subtlest wisdom.
Man is most happy, when his own actions are arguments and examples of his virtue.
Heaven fashioned us of nothing; and we strive to bring ourselves to nothing.
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