You told a lie, an odious damned lie; Upon my soul, a lie, a wicked lie.
Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.
O Helena, goddess, nymph, perfect, divine! To what, my love, shall I compare thine eyne? Crystal is muddy. O, how ripe in show Thy lips, those kissing cherries, tempting grow!
Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
The object of Art is to give life a shape.
Give thy thoughts no tongue.