The purest treasure mortal times can afford is a spotless reputation.

And to be merry best becomes you; for, out of question, you were born in a merry hour. BEATRICE No, sure, my lord, my mother cried; but then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.

And oft, my jealousy shapes faults that are not.

Why, thou owest god a death.

My charity is outrage, life my shame; And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage!

Love's not love When it is mingled with regards that stand Aloof from th' entire point.

Don't trust the person who has broken faith once.