Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with honesty?

I hate ingratitude more in a man than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, or any taint of vice whose strong corruption inhabits our frail blood".

What's brave, what's noble, let's do it after the Roman fashion.

Tired with all these for restful death I cry, As to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimmed in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn.

What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted! Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his quarrel just.

And too soon Marred are those so early Made.

I'll fight, till from my bones my flesh be hacked.