A great ship asks deep water.
Shall I, to please another wine-sprung minde, Lose all mine own? God hath giv’n me a measure Short of His can and body; must I find A pain in that, wherein he finds a pleasure?
By suppers more have been killed than Galen ever cured.
Laugh not too much; the witty man laughs least: For wit is news only to ignorance. Lesse at thine own things laugh; lest in the jest Thy person share, and the conceit advance.
Halfe the world knowes not how the other halfe lies.
That flesh is but the glasse, which holds the dust That measures all our time; which also shall Be crumbled into dust.
Praise the Sea, but keepe on land.
Prosperity lets goe the bridle.
The Wolfe must dye in his owne skinne.
That from small fires comes oft no small mishap.
The Sundaies of man’s life, Thredded together on time’s string, Make bracelets to adorn the wife Of the eternal, glorious King. On Sunday heaven’s gates stand ope; Blessings are plentiful and rife. More plentiful than hope.
Summe up at night what thou hast done by day; And in the morning what thou hast to do. Dresse and undresse thy soul; mark the decay And growth of it; if, with thy watch, that too Be down then winde up both; since we shall be Most surely judg’d, make thy accounts agree.
Take heede of still waters, the quick passe away.
When thou dost tell another’s jest, therein Omit the oaths, which true wit cannot need; Pick out of tales the mirth, but not the sin.
Drink not the third glass, which thou canst not tame, When once it is within thee; but before Mayst rule it, as thou list: and pour the shame, Which it would pour on thee, upon the floor. It is most just to throw that on the ground, Which would throw me there, if I keep the round.
The Frier preached against stealing, and had a goose in his sleeve.
Corn is cleaned with wind, and the Soul with chastening.
A litle wind kindles; much puts out the fire.
You cannot know wine by the barrell.
None is a fool always, everyone sometimes.