But no perfection is so absolute, That some impurity doth not pollute.

The most peerless piece of earth, I think, that e' er the sun shone bright on.

So quick bright things come to confusion.​​​​​​

Glory is like a circle in the water, which never ceaseth to enlarge itself, till, by broad spreading, it disperse to naught.

Love goes toward love as schoolboys from their books, But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.

My falcon now is sharp and passing empty, and till she stoop she must not be full-gorged, for then she never looks upon her lure.

You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will more willingly part withal: except my life, except my life, except my life.