I understand from my own work that haste makes waste. But I also understand that. . . the creative spark dims, and then death puts it out. William Shakespeare, for instance, hasn’t produced a new play for 400 years. That, my friends, is a long dry spell.
Don't judge a book by its cover
Let wealth come in by comely thrift, And not by any sordid shift; 'T is haste Makes waste; Extremes have still their fault. Who gripes too hard the dry and slipp'ry sand, Holds none at all, or little, in his hand.
Take time for all things: great haste makes great waste.
Too many cooks spoil the broth
Don't judge a book by its cover 'til you've read the book.
Haste makes waste, no less in life than in housekeeping.
Take time for all things.
Haste makes waste, so I rarely hurry. But if a ferret were about to dart up my dress, I'd run.
