The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, is often left unloved.

Had I but served my God with half the zeal I served my king, he would not in mine age have left me naked to mine enemies.

How hard it is for women to keep counsel!

Trust not your daughter's minds By what you see them act.

There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will.

Here's flowers for you; Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram; The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun And with him rises weeping: these are flowers Of middle summer, and I think they are given To men of middle age.

All pity choked with custom of fell deeds.