It is not vain glory for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber.

I say, without characters, fame lives long.

Do all men kill the things they do not love ............ The quality of mercy is not strain'd It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest It blesseth him that gives and him that takes

Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own

We must follow, not force Providence.

Don't trust the person who has broken faith once.

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lillies that fester smell far worse than weeds.