Why, thou deboshed fish thou...Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but half a fish and half a monster?

Suspicion shall be all stuck full of eyes.

Where the bee sucks, there suck I In the cow-slip's bell i lie There I couch when owls do cry

And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

As many arrows, loosed several ways, come to one mark...so many a thousand actions, once afoot, end in one purpose.

So may the outward shows be least themselves: The world is still deceived with ornament. In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, Obscures the show of evil? In religion, What damned error, but some sober brow Will bless it and approve it with a text, Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? There is no vice so simple but assumes Some mark of virtue on his outward parts.

Much rain wears the marble.