Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.

It comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him.

Beauty within itself should not be wasted.

When workmen strive to do better than well, they do confound their skill in covetousness.

The one I love is the son of the one I hate! -Juliet p. 75

Love all. Trust a few. Do wrong to none. This above all: to thine own self be true. No legacy is so rich as honesty. Brevity is the soul of wit

O polished perturbation! golden care! That keep'st the ports of slumber open wide To many a watchful night.