Take no repulse, whatever she doth say; For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away.' Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces; Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces

Beware the leader who bangs the drums of war in order to whip the citizenry into a patriotic fervor.

A woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her not.

Have I thought long to see this morning’s face, And doth it give me such a sight as this?

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought.

Let them obey that knows not how to rule.

If love be blind, it best agrees with night