Tis safter to be that which we destroy Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
William ShakespeareThere is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murder in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
William ShakespeareOur fancies are more giddy and unfirm, more longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, than women's are.
William Shakespeare