How many things by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection!
Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.
Vile worm, thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth.
O sir, you are old; nature in you stands on the very verge of her confine; you should be ruled and led by some discretion, that discerns your fate better than you yourself.
Hold, or cut bowstrings.
The devil is a gentleman.