Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard.
Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words
No man means evil but the devil, and we shall know him by his horns.
My dear, dear Lord, The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation; that away Men are but gilded loan or painted clay... Mine honor is my life; both grow in one; Take honor from me, and my life is done.
Time travels in divers paces with divers persons.
With this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature. for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature.