Talkers Are No Good Doers.

I Have Of Late--but Wherefore I Know Not--lost All My Mirth, Forgone All Custom Of Exercise.

If After Every Tempest Come Such Calms, May The Winds Blow Till They Have Waken'd Death!

Be Wary Then; Best Safety Lies In Fear.

The Amity That Wisdom Knits Not, Folly May Easily Untie.

Ha. "against My Will I Am Sent To Bid You Come Into Dinner." There's A Double Meaning In That. -benedick (much Ado)