Being of no power to make his wishes good: His promises fly so beyond his state That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes For every word.

Love does not see with the eyes, but with the soul.

Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition

I am misanthropos, and hate mankind, For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, That I might love thee something.

Wilt thou whip thine own faults in other men?

Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, have yet some smack of age in you, some relish of the saltiness of time.