Heaven be thanked, we live in such an age, When no man dies for love, but on the stage.
Great souls forgive not injuries till time has put their enemies within their power, that they may show forgiveness is their own.
The bravest men are subject most to chance.
Her wit was more than man, her innocence a child.
For those whom God to ruin has design'd, He fits for fate, and first destroys their mind.
My love's a noble madness.