There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple. If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with't

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.

You are not wood, you are not stones, but men.

Journeys end in lovers meeting.

Slander, whose whisper over the world's diameter, as level as the cannon to its blank, transports its poisoned shot.

Beauty itself doth of itself persuade the eyes of men without an orator.

Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am sunburnt; I may sit in a corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband!