What drink'st thou oft, instead of homage sweet, But poisoned flattery?

I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men.

But here's the joy: my friend and I are one, Sweet flattery!

Though justice be thy plea consider this, that in the course of justice none of us should see salvation.

Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold.

Nothing can seem foul to those who win.

Demetrius: Villain, what hast thou done? Aaron: That which thou canst not undo. Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother. Aaron: Villain, I have done thy mother.