Never durst poet touch a pen to write Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sighs.

Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy.

Be wary then; best safety lies in fear.

Is this a dagger which I see before me, The handle toward my hand?

Constant you are, But yet a woman; and for secrecy, No lady closer; for I well believe Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know.

Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.

God has given you one face, and you make yourself another.