Thou weedy elf-skinned canker-blossom!
We make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars; as if we were villians by compulsion.
A man may see how this world goes with no eyes. Look with thine ears: see how yond justice rails upon yon simple thief. Hark, in thine ear: change places; and, handy-dandy, which is the justice, which is the thief?
The wounds invisible that Love's keen arrows make.
Blessed are the peacemakers on earth.
Examine well your blood.