By Heaven, my soul is purg'd from grudging hate; And with my hand I seal my true heart's love

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child!

Time travels at different speeds for different people. I can tell you who time strolls for, who it trots for, who it gallops for, and who it stops cold for.

Thy best of rest is sleep, And that thou oft provok'st; yet grossly fear'st Thy death, which is no more.

We must not make a scarecrow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey, And let it keep one shape till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror.

Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye.

Courage and comfort, all shall yet go well