My heart is turned to stone; I strike it, and it hurts my hand.

My hands are of your color, but I shame to wear a heart so white.

He that is thy friend indeed, He will help thee in thy need: If thou sorrow, he will weep; If thou wake, he cannot sleep: Thus of every grief in heart He with thee does bear a part. These are certain signs to know Faithful friend from flattering foe.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.

O the world is but a word; were it all yours to give it in a breath, how quickly were it gone!

I shall show the cinders of my spirits Through the ashes of my chance.

Ingratitude is monstrous.