A Friend Should Bear His Friend's Infirmities.

Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind Thou Art Not So Unkind, As Man's Ingratitude.

Unquiet Meals Make Ill Digestions.

Life's But A Walking Shadow, A Poor Player, That Struts And Frets His Hour Upon The Stage, And Then Is Heard No More; It Is A Tale Told By An Idiot, Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing.

The Miserable Have No Other Medicine But Only Hope.

Let The Doors Be Shut Upon Him, That He May Play The Fool No Where But In's Own House.