ROMEO There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, Doing more murders in this loathsome world, Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. Come, cordial and not poison, go with me To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.

Men have marble, women waxen, minds.

The quality of nothing hath not such need to hide itself

It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking.

You take my life when you do take the means whereby I live

I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.

Some men never seem to grow old. Always active in thought, always ready to adopt new ideas, they are never chargeable with foggyism. Satisfied, yet ever dissatisfied, settled, yet ever unsettled, they always enjoy the best of what is, are the first to find the best of what will be.