Thou art a Castilian King urinal!
One good deed dying tongueless Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that. Our praises are our wages.
When you depart from me sorrow abides and happiness takes his leave.
For by his face straight shall you know his heart.
There is an old poor man,. . . . Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger.
Do all men kill the things they do not love ............ The quality of mercy is not strain'd It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest It blesseth him that gives and him that takes