Lay her i' the earth: And from her fair and unpolluted flesh May violets spring! I tell thee, churlish priest, A ministering angel shall my sister be, When thou liest howling. HAMLET. What, the fair Ophelia! QUEEN GERTRUDE. Sweets to the sweet: farewell!
As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.
Say, thou art mine; and ever, My love, as it begins, shall so persevere
I'll say she looks as clear as morning roses newly washed with dew.
Security is the chief enemy of mortals.
How use doth breed a habit in a man.