Don't judge a man's conscience by looking at his face cause he may have a bad heart.
William ShakespeareO, that this too too solid flesh would melt Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, (135) Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: (140) So excellent a king; that was, to this.
William ShakespeareHow many things by season seasoned are To their right praise and true perfection!
William ShakespeareThe big round tears Cours'd one another down his innocent nose, In piteous chase.
William Shakespeare