I do desire we may be better strangers.

He is deformed, crooked, old and sere, Ill-faced, worse bodied, shapeless everywhere; Vicious, ungentle, foolish, blunt, unkind; Stigmatical in making, worse in mind.

That's a valiant flea that dares eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.

It is a good divine that follows his own instructions.

This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-Paradise.

Our fancies are more giddy and unfirm, more longing, wavering, sooner lost and won, than women's are.

Ingrateful man with liquorish draughts, and morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind that from it all consideration slips.