Many a true word hath been spoken in jest.

Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.

Spirits are not finely touched But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence But like a thrifty goddess she determines Herself the glory of a creditor,Both thanks and use.

When words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain.

Truly, I would not hang a dog by my will, much more a man who hath any honesty in him.

And oftentimes excusing of a fault doth make the fault the worse by the excuse.

What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee