“One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,That all with one consent praise new-born gauds,Though they are made and moulded of things past,And give to dust that is a little giltMore laud than gilt o'er-dusted.The present eye praises the present object.”

“For we, which now behold these present days,Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.”

“Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise, The breath is gone whereof this praise is made: Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers, These flies are couch'd.”

“I’ll look to like, if looking liking move; But no more deep will I endart mine eye than your consent gives strength to make it fly.”

“Praising what is lost makes the remembrance dear”

“A little more than kin, a little less than kind.”

“How many things by season season'd are, To their right praise and true perfection!”