Love hath made thee a tame snake

After your death you were better have a bad epitaph than their ill report while you live.

Yea from the table of my memory I'll wipe away all trivial fond records.

Sweet are the uses of adversity which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head.

There's daggers in men's smiles.

Being of no power to make his wishes good: His promises fly so beyond his state That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes For every word.

I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in.