Art, like Nature, has her monsters

Each man lived his own life and paid his own price for living it. The only pity was one had to pay so often for a single fault. One had to pay over and over again, indeed. In her dealings with man, Destiny never closed her accounts.

Let me be dressed as I will, yet flies worms and flowers exceed me still.

We become lovers when we see Romeo and Juliet, and Hamlet makes us students. The blood of Duncan is upon our hands, with Timon werage against the world, and when Lear wanders out upon the heath the terror of madness touches us. Ours is the white sinlessness of Desdemona, and ours, also, the sin of Iago.

Now that the House of Commons is trying to become useful, it does a great deal of harm.

The study of law is sublime, and its practice vulgar.

I see when men love women. They give them but a little of their lives. But women when they love give everything.