From women's eyes this doctrine I derive: They sparkle still the right Promethean fire; They are the books, the arts, the academes, That show, contain and nourish all the world.
I fill up a place, which may be better... when I have made it empty.
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts.
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned.
As he was valiant, I honour him. But as he was ambitious, I slew him.
More of your conversation would infect my brain.