A maiden hath no tongue--but thought.

I have lived long enough. My way of life is to fall into the sere, the yellow leaf, and that which should accompany old age, as honor, love, obedience, troops of friends I must not look to have.

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Kindness nobler ever than revenge.

Although the last, not least.

The better part of valor is discretion, in the which better part I have saved my life.

For by his face straight shall you know his heart.