Yet do I fear thy nature; It is too full o' the milk of human kindness.

No visor does become black villainy so well as soft and tender flattery.

A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Of him that makes it.

Good Lord, for alliance! Thus goes every one to the world but I, and I am sunburnt; I may sit in a corner and cry heigh-ho for a husband!

Of all the flowers, me thinks a rose is best.

And thence from Athens turn away our eyes To seek new friends and stranger companies.

I would there were no age between sixteen and three-and-twenty, or that youth would sleep out the rest; for there is nothing in the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the ancientry, stealing, fighting