Better Three Hours Too Soon,

Every Man Has A Bag Hanging Before Him, In Which He Puts His Neighbour's Faults, And Another Behind Him In Which He Stows His Own.

Bounty, Being Free Itself, Thinks All Others So.

Foul Deeds Will Rise, Though All The Earth O'erwhelm Them, To Men's Eyes.

Is There No Respect Of Place, Persons, Nor Time In You?

I Can Hardly Forbear Hurling Things At Him.