Who friendship with a knave hath made, is judged a partner in the trade.
What then in love can woman do? If we grow fond they shun us. And when we fly them, they pursue: But leave us when they've won us.
Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise. For envy is a kind of praise.
A rich rogue nowadays is fit company for any gentleman; and the world, my dear, hath not such a contempt for roguery as you imagine.
Those who in quarrels interpose, must often wipe a bloody nose.
An open foe may prove a curse, but a pretended friend is worse.