Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.
William ShakespeareI pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought, Perplexed in the extreme. . .
William ShakespeareThe peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords, in such a just and charitable war.
William Shakespeare