It easeth some, though none it ever cured, to think their dolour others have endured. — William Shakespeare
The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. — William Shakespeare
For many men that stumble at the threshold are well foretold that danger lurks within. — William Shakespeare
There is no vice so simple but assumes some mark of virtue on his outward parts. — William Shakespeare
Alas, their love may be call’d appetite. No motion of the liver, but the palate — William Shakespeare