All moral laws are merely statements that certain kinds of actions will have good effects.

But from the hoop's bewitching round, Her very shoe has power to wound.

I'll tell thee what it says; it calls me villain, a treacherous husband, a cruel father, a false brother; one lost to nature and her charities; or to say all in one short word, it calls me - Gamester.

I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice.

Beauty has wings, and too hastily flies, and love, unrewarded, soon sickens and dies.

'Tis now the summer of your youth: time has not cropped the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them.

Can't I another's face commend, Or to her virtues be a friend, But instantly your forehead louers, As if her merit lessen'd yours?