Malice Blunts The Point Of Wit.

Wits, Like Drunken Men With Swords, Are Apt To Draw Their Steel Upon Their Best Acquaintances.

Some Of 'em [virtues] Like Extinct Volcanoes, With A Strong Memory Or Fire And Brimstone.

I Never Hear The Rattling Of Dice That It Does Not Sound To Me Like The Funeral Bell Of The Whole Family.

O This Itch Of The Ear, That Breaks Out At The Tongue! Were Not Curiosity So Over-busy, Detraction Would Soon Be Starved To Death.

As For The Brandy, "nothing Extenuate"; And The Water, Put Nought In In Malice.