Thou frothy tickle-brained hedge-pig!

Lord Bacon told Sir Edward Coke when he was boasting, The less you speak of your greatness, the more shall I think of it.

O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy, In measure rain thy joy, scant this excess!

And ruin`d love when it is built anew, grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater

Trust not my reading, nor my observations, Which with experimental seal do warrant The tenor of my book.

For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel: Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all

Lawn as white as driven snow; Cyprus black as e'er was crow; Gloves as sweet as damask roses.