'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed

You lack the season of all natures, sleep.

But O, how bitter a thing it is to look into happiness through another man's eyes.

Awake, awake, English nobility! Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot.

I am asham'd that women are so simple To offer war where they should kneel for peace.

It is the mind that makes the body rich; and as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, so honor peereth in the meanest habit.

He's loved of the distracted multitude, who like not in their judgement, but their eyes.