Come the three corners of the world in arms, and we shall shock them.
Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautiful; Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious To have mistrusted her.
What a piece of work is a man
All dark and comfortless.
Good company, good wine, good welcome, can make good people.
'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed, When not to be, receives reproach of being, And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed, Not by our feeling, but by others' seeing.