Love will not be spurred to what it loathes

I bear a charmed life.

I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness, And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting.

I humbly do beseech of your pardon, For too much loving you

Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! *It’s sad. Love looks like a nice thing, but it’s actually very rough when you experience it.*

There is no vice so simple but assumes some mark of virtue on his outward parts.

This we prescribe, though no physician; Deep malice makes too deep incision; Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed; Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.