Venus smiles not in a house of tears.

Ideas are the very coinage of your brain.

Let the galled jade wince; our withers are unwrung.

Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse steals trash; ’tis something, nothing; ’twas mine, ’tis his, and has been slave to thousands; But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him, And makes me poor indeed.

Not stepping over the bounds of modesty.

Come what sorrow can, It cannot countervail the exchange of joy, That one short minute gives me in her sight

It will have blood, they say; blood will have blood.