'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed

All that glitters is not gold.

I hold it cowardice To rest mistrustful where a noble heart Hath pawned an open hand in sign of love.

You have witchcraft in your lips, there is more eloquence in a sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council; and they should sooner persuade Harry of England than a general petition of monarchs.

He capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth, he writes verses, he speaks holiday, he smells April and May.

Boldness be my friend.

That affable familiar ghost Which nightly gulls him with intelligence.