He That Is Proud Eats Up Himself:

Oft Expectation Fails, And Most Oft There Where Most It Promises; And Oft It Hits Where Hope Is Coldest, And Despair Most Fits.

Nay, Had I Pow'r, I Should Pour The Sweet Milk Of Concord Into Hell, Uproar The Universal Peace, Confound All Unity On Earth.

Hasty Marriage Seldom Proveth Well.

Contention, Like A Horse, Full Of High Feeding, Madly Hath Broke Loose, And Bears Down All Before Him.

The Tyrant Custom, Most Grave Senators, Hath Made The Flinty And Steel Couch Of War My Thrice-driven Bed Of Down.