The instruments of darkness tell us truths.

Love is too young to know what conscience is.

And she's fair I love.

Well, heaven forgive him! and forgive us all! Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall: Some run from brakes of ice, and answer none: And some condemned for a fault alone.

All fancy-sick she is and pale of cheer, with sighs of love, that costs the fresh blood dear.

If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny.

I hope to see London once ere I die.