[w]e All Lie Down In

Garments That Have Once One Rent In Them Are Subject To Be Torn On Every Nail, And Glasses That Are Once Cracked Are Soon Broken; Such Is Man's Good Name Once Tainted With Just Reproach.

As You See In A Pair Of Bellows, There Is A Forced Breath Without Life, So In Those That Are Puffed Up With The Wind Of Ostentation, There May Be Charitable Words Without Works.

What Fools Are We, To Be Besotted With The Love Of Our Own Trouble, And To Hate Our Liberty And Rest!

Earthly Greatness Is A Nice Thing, And Requires So Much Chariness In The Managing, As The Contentment Of It Cannot Requite.

Virtues Go Ever In Troops; They Go So Thick, That Sometimes Some Are Hid In The Crowd; Which Yet Are, But Appear Not.